


Ill With Want

by t0bemadeofglass



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Jotun!Loki, More Pairings to Come - Freeform, On Hiatus, Past Sif/Thor - Freeform, Plot With Porn, Prompt Fill, Size Kink, WIP, hints at past abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1253536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0bemadeofglass/pseuds/t0bemadeofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She would not spend her first evening as a married woman trembling like a lost maid, no matter if she hadn’t been willing to be married.  She was a Romanov, last of her house, and she would face it with the strength that was said to once have been her mother’s."</p><p>Based on the prompt: AU, In which Natasha is an Asgardian, she and Thor are promised to one another, and after Jotunheim is conquered by the Aesir, Thor gifts Loki, the runt Jotun prince, to Natasha as a servant. Possibility of a secret affair, threeway relationship, or however you decide to take it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because OBVIOUSLY I don't have enough on my plate already, I decided to start this bad boy for nes2439, who wanted some more Thortasha, and because I'm a dolt I can't keep myself from putting my favorite three babies together. Ever.  
> So I give to you this, loverly, fic. Hope you enjoy!

She felt him enter more than anything else, her face bathed in the dark of night as her husband moved around the moonlit bedroom.  She’d barely stopped herself from trembling before, when she’d left the wedding feast, and now?  Confronted with the truth of what she’d been sold into, what she had to look forward to?  It was a miracle the tremors didn’t begin anew again.  His feet were soft, despite being such a large man, as he padded around, stripping himself of the ceremonial armor that he’d donned for the celebrations, and eventually she felt the bed give beneath his weight and the soft skin of his well-defined torso pressed up against her back.  A large hand, calloused from years of battle, the same battles that had won him her she supposed, skimmed across her soft side.  No stranger to a man’s touch, her body responded, heat warming her loins as her skin burst into goosebumps.  The soft burst of air that came from him was enough to be called a laugh, and slowly, torturously slowly, she turned to look up at him.  She willed the trembling to stop.  She would not spend her first evening as a married woman trembling like a lost maid, no matter if she hadn’t been willing to be married.  She was a Romanov, last of her house, and she would face it with the strength that was said to once have been her mother’s.  

“Could you not sleep?”  He asked, voice rough and low as a strand of blond hair fell across his face.  She pushed it away, hand small in comparison to his.  

“No.  I’d have thought the wine might help but it seems I’m in the mood for something else,” she murmured, voice soft.  His resulting smile lit up his face, and his lips, chapped and tasting of wine, pressed hard against hers.  She willed herself to respond, arching against him.  

Their union would seal a compact between her people, her dying, diseased, starving people, and his golden city of Asgard, and though they’d fought not six months ago, and lost many of their men in the process, it was Thor, alone, who could bring glory to her people so long as he buried himself within Natasha and put sons in her belly.  She could live with that, she supposed.  One woman’s freedom for the lives of her people.  It seemed a fair enough trade.  

He seemed pleased enough that she’d not worn anything to bed, turning her over onto her back as he moved from her lips to her cheeks, to her jaw-line, finding the soft curves of her throat to set his teeth into so that she moaned and fisted the sheets at her side.  She could feel him hardening as he positioned himself slowly between her legs and her eyes snapped open, surprise and actual terror gripping her heart for the briefest of moments.  Maid she might not have been, but neither Alexei, or James had been that—well.  This wasn’t going to be an easy night.  

He chuckled as her body went stock still, and shifted further to the side, grabbing a vial from beside the bed she recognized as oil.  Well, that would help some she supposed.  It was certainly better than nothing.  He kissed his way down her body, humming in appreciation as he paid attention to each breast in turn, taking her nipples into his mouth and sucking until she was whining beneath him before turning to the other, tauntingly blowing cold air at the overly sensitive  and wet skin.  She shrieked with surprise, bringing one of her hands down to his shoulder to shove him.  She might as well have hit a brick wall for all the good it did her, but he laughed all the same.  

“Apologies, I could not resist,” he said, and with his wide grin it was easy to see why he was so sought after.  Not only was he a prince, soon to be king as soon as Odin decided he no longer wanted his throne, but from what she’d seen he was a good man.  Good enough, she supposed.  He might even make her happy, she tried to remind herself as she allowed a smile to curve her mouth as he kept moving south down her body, kissing her hips and nipping at her flattened tummy.  His free hand ran over the smooth skin slowly, as though envisioning it fat with child, and she tried not to think too hard about what that would entail, not looking forward to the discomfort but perhaps more than anything the freedom that would come after it.  After she’d given him a son she’d be ignored, left to do as she wished.  That, she supposed, was the best offer she’d ever get.  And so she relinquished to him, smiling and moaning as he brought his lips to her center and opened her with his tongue, talented enough to make her gasp with pleased surprise, before his fingers pressed into her wet center, stretching her out.  He paused as he pushed them entirely within her, eliciting a squeal of pleasure from her.  

“You’re not—?”

“Neither are you, my king,” she said, sitting up slowly to take him by the chin and kiss him hard.  “But I can assure you it will be the best lay you’ve ever had, and well worth your while.”  

She felt him pulse against her thigh and smiled, laying back down and swiveling her hips enticingly.  He took the bait and pushed himself up onto his knees, taking the stopper from the vial in his hands to pool the liquid in his hand before coating himself, generously, with it.  She was grateful for his consideration.  

Stoppered once more, he dropped the vial gently back to the floor before pressing two well coated and oiled fingers into her again to finish getting her ready, before his hands found her hips and pulled her closer.  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, never losing her smile, even as the thick head of his cock pressed up against her.  He was courteous as he pressed himself into her, inch by inch, watching her face as her brow trembled as she forced herself to keep silent.  He kissed her forehead, taking one of her legs by the thigh to wrap it around his waist, angling him deeper, and while it would feel good in some time his size was considerable and when she blinked a few tears slid down her face.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her when he bottomed out and she took a shaky breath to calm her heart.  

“It’s fine,” she croaked, smiling up at him and kissing him harder, funneling the pain and determination to get through it into their juncture.  He moaned against her, chest vibrating with it, and when she relaxed enough underneath him he pulled out, then pressed slowly back inside.  

Pleasure spiked her veins as she started to moan and press up harder against him, eyes fluttering shut when he began to pick up the pace.  His own breath came in short pants, grunting and growling as he buried himself in her over and over again, until she felt herself nearing and his body tightening above her.  Seeing her chance, she grinned and hooked one of her legs around his, switching them out in a flurry and pulling off of him.  Thor landed, hard, on the bed and stared up, wide eyed at her.  

“What do you think—ohh,” his eyes nearly popped as she sank herself down onto him with a slow, torturous swivel of her hips, Nat moaning as well as she could feel him against every inch of her, tightening as she placed her hands on his chest and started to raise and drop herself atop him.  His large hands found her hips to help her move, raising her up and slamming her down until she was shouting above him, her head tipping back and her breasts bouncing in front of his eyes.  Her hands took them and pulled the nipples taut beneath her fingertips, grinning when she saw his eyes grow wide, pupils so large they nearly blotted out the blue, and his body begin, once more, to ready itself for an orgasm.  

“Does this please you, my king?” She asked in between moans, air hard enough to come by yet she pushed herself harder than ever, biting her lower lip as she swiveled her hip once more, feeling herself just on the edge.  Almost—almost.  

“Yes, my the gods yes it does Natasha,” he moaned, and with one final thrust up into her she felt herself tumble over the cliff, shouting as he surged up to kiss her hard on the lips and came inside of her, body trembling beneath her, before he finally pulled her back down with him, keeping himself inside her as if it would ensure she grew full with child.  For all she knew it might, and though he fell asleep soon after, one arm wrapped tight around her waist, she found little to no respite in the evening.  

 

She was sore as all get out in the morning, no surprise there, and though Thor did his best to let her sleep when he rose before she did, she found herself sitting up shortly afterwards.  He smiled to see her and leaned in to kiss her quickly.  

“Good morrow, my dearest,” he said.  “I’m sorry for waking you.”

She shook it off, smiling and cupping the side of his face to kiss him, trying to force herself to feel something.  “I’m an early riser, do not worry,” she assured him as he pulled away.  “Did you enjoy last night?”

He grinned, and the look transformed his entire face.  He was adorable when he was so pleased, she had to say, and found herself laughing.  

“I’ll take that as a yes.  I did promise you the best you’ve ever had.”

“And you did not disappoint.  But come, now that you are awake I have a surprise for you.”  He offered her a hand to help her out of bed, and she had to admit that she was grateful for it, her knees weakening so much that she fell against him.  Her cheeks flushed with displeasure though he took it as embarrassment and grinned before kissing her once more.  

“Oh, do not fear, I’ve made many a woman weak in the knees,” he said with a good-natured wink.  

Was that supposed to make her feel better?  She chanced a smile before moving around to get ready for the rest of the day, picking a soft purple gown that would hide how bowlegged she was after the last night.  She still had her vanity, dammit all, no matter what her position.  Thor practically vibrated with excitement, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked down to the great hall.  It had been cleared up from the monstrous event that had been held the night before and to her surprise the royal family was already seated, chattering quietly to one another.  Frigga, the queen, caught Natasha’s eye and offered the newest member of her family a smile, which Nat returned, taking a seat beside her after Thor deposited her there, promising he’d be back soon after.  Nat watched him go with a mix of confusion and apprehension, before Frigga turned to her.  

“I take it last night went well?”

Ah, yes.  There it was.  Her maternal status would forever be under scrutiny, and though she understood it she in no way enjoyed it.  But she dipped her head, hiding a smile, as she murmured that yes, they’d consummated their marriage.  Yes, Frigga’s son had been good to her.  The older woman took her hand and squeezed it.  

“It gets easier,” she whispered, leaning in to brush her lips against Natasha’s temple.  Nat was thankful for it, yet before she could say anything the doors opened once more and Thor strode back in, carrying with him a chain that connected to a taller figure just behind him, the man’s head raised as if he were a visiting prince and yet his arms were bound in front of him.  He was dressed in a deep green cloth around his hips and nothing else, save the gold bangles that hung from his arms, his ankles, around his hips, throat, and connected around his chest from the chains around his neck.  It contrasted sharply with his light blue skin, and his long hair was flecked with gold, too, though his red eyes, voluminous and unyielding, were what caught her.  Her breath caught in her throat, and she blinked rapidly as Loki came to bring this creature in front of her.  

“Wife.  This is Loki, and this is my wedding gift to you,” Thor grinned, offering her the chains that held his hands together in front of him.  She took them slowly, biting her bottom lip as she looked from Loki to Thor.  

“What for?”

Thor laughed, the full-bellied noise enough to protect her transgression and inability to tell him thanks for surprise.  Oops?  Even the frost giant in front of her seemed to be laughing at her, his expression haughty as he watched her finger the chains.  

“I’ve been told he’s an excellent dancer.  An entertainer.  You may grow bored while I am at war, so I thought to offer you a companion to keep you entertained.”  Thor said with a kiss to her lips.  “Send him to work in the kitchens if you desire, or have him sing or dance for you.  Whatever it is you wish, I’m sure you’ll find some use for the runt.”  

The other man said nothing, did nothing at the insult, and it was true.  For a Jotun he was small.  Human sized.  His fingers were thin and long, nails blackened from the frost, and yet he was beautiful in his own way.  Natasha thanked her husband for his gift and stood to kiss him as chastely as she could manage in front of his mother, though Thor wasn’t too keen on keeping it private.  Natasha fought back a flush when he pulled away, eyes looking anywhere but at Loki, Frigga, or anyone else there, while Thor just laughed again.  All the while Nat’s fingers tightened on the chains, looking up to catch Loki’s eyes.  He couldn’t have looked more amused and she felt herself growing eager.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a difficult transition after all.  


	2. Chapter 2

Loki was sent to live in the room beside her own, his red eyes contemptuous as they stared around the gilded halls of what would be his new home, the way that it would be hers.  She couldn't deny that she had felt the same time she'd been brought here, two weeks before her wedding night, before last night, when she'd been led around like some prize cattle.  And so she'd been instructed to lead him, the golden chains wrapped around his wrists heavy in her hands until she got to his room.  Only then did she turn to him and unlock the shackles with the key that Thor had slipped to her.  

One of the Jotun's eyebrows rose in an elegant arch.  "What are you doing?"  He asked, voice feather soft and quick, as though unsure he’d get another chance to.  

"Removing your bindings.  I'm not forced to wear them, so you won't be either."  She said, her voice quiet as her blue eyes met his blue skin, red eyes, long black hair in turn.  He'd stick out like a sore thumb there, and if anything happened to her, they'd know exactly who to blame.  It wasn't the best of positions for her to put him in, but she wasn't fond of bindings.  Not like that.  She removed the manacles and watched as he rubbed the tender skin that had chafed against the metal.  

"Why not?"

"I'd rather pretend you simply enjoyed my company," she said without missing a beat, opening the large door that gave way into his room.  It was larger than she had expected, being servants quarters.  Back home they'd been little more than a bed and small dresser, where here they were as extravagant as the new rooms she herself had been given.  Situated just down the hall from her own, she was content with their size and grandeur, turning back to see his own face betraying his surprise for the briefest of seconds before he returned to the cool indifference he seemed to prefer to showing anything remotely like gratitude.  She stepped back to allow him to walk around the room, watching as he kept very close to himself though his eyes stopped at nothing, taking it all in until eventually settling on her.  Neither of them spoke, preferring to keep silence with each other, and the thought quirked the edges of Natasha’s lips.  His defiance was amusing, she had to admit, though she hoped he might eventually let it slip, let her in.  If he was to be her servant, or whatever it was Thor had intended--.  

What was it he had planned on, either way?  

“My lord husband said you were to entertain me,” she said, licking her lips, ashamed that the nerves she’d felt last night had seemed to come back in full swing, though she couldn’t understand why.  What was there to be afraid of?  She’d been in a room alone with another man plenty of times before, had a servant growing up sleep in the room opposite her, but now?  Her heart was jackrabbit fast and she could feel her cheeks heating under Loki’s rather intense, unabashed gaze.  Why did he look at her as though she was a toy he’d just been given, when it should’ve been the other way around?

“I am.”  He gave no courtly titles, despite Natasha being a queen in title now that she was wedded and bedded, but he didn’t seem to mind or even take notice that he’d dropped the formalities.  She swallowed thickly and tipped her chin up further.  

“I am your queen, and I would thank you to address me as such, Loki,” she said, forcing her voice to strengthen as her eyes narrowed slightly.  He only looked bemused, and she could feel her ire for him rising a notch or so.  He wanted to fight her, did he?  She pursed her lips slightly as she took to strolling around him, taking in his quiet demeanor, the wide, comfortable stance he took though she could read the fine lines on his body telling her that he was more than willing to spring for freedom as soon as the moment arose.  She didn’t blame him, and had she not a ring on her finger tying her to the state and her adopted father’s threat still ringing in her ears of what would happen to her if she botched this she might’ve done the same.  

“Do you not believe in titles, Loki?”

“There is much I do not believe in.  I do not believe titles are a good place to start,” he followed her movements with his eyes alone, the red hue of it haunting and yet intriguing to her all the same.  Curious that he could infuriate her and entice her with the same level look.  Had she been brought up a proper lady in a proper house such as this she might’ve struck him, or ordered him to be taken from her sight.  A willing servant, one not observant of specific class lines, only bred problems for the household.  She knew this, not from experience but from hearing of the ladies in her retinue speak of such matters, oblivious to their new queen’s lack of knowledge.  

Natasha, however, found her heart quickening not with anger but with excitement.  It wasn’t often that she got such an appealing offer to pass the time.  

“Where do you think is?” She asked, stopping just in front of him, tipping his head upwards.  He shook her grip off with ease, and when she smiled his own gaze turned cautiously pessimistic, the first real hint of emotion she’d gotten from him.  

“That is a very long conversation,” he assured her.  “One I am not keen to have at the moment.”

“That’s unfortunate for you, because I am,” she said, pulling away from where she’d paced near him to take a seat, instead, on the edge of her bed, watching him with the smallest of smirks crawling up her face, glad for the wavering displeasure on his face.  It was a dangerous game, playing with a Jotun, but for once the thought of being trapped in this castle for days, possibly even weeks on end, didn’t seem so daunting.  

"Come now.  What else do you not believe in?" Natasha asked, tipping her head to the side ever so slightly, smiling in spite of herself.

"Being chained up, though you already saw to that," Loki admitted, voice soft, and now it was his turn to move, fearless as he closed the gap between the two of them.  Natasha felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared up at him, suddenly wishing for another reason to stand up besides not being so comfortable with the height difference.  She didn't like being at a disadvantage, having been at one for nearly her whole life.  But now?  It would make her distress and distaste far too obvious if she was to stand at that present moment, and so instead she eyed him.  

"What else?"

"I am to have some private thoughts," he said with the quietest of laughs, one that sent goosebumps up her arms.  

“Yes, but are all of your thoughts so private that you refuse to share them with me?” She asked, tipping her head up as she stretched backwards onto her hands.  She watched his adam’s apple bob, watched his pupils dilate slightly and she knew her plan was working.  All men, it seemed, approved of the same things, and the stretch of her neck would make her cleavage stand out all the more, making her even more lovely in the red satin gown she’d been dressed in that morning, the same shade as his eyes.  

Quick as a dagger in the night his hand shot out to catch her chin, pulling her up and nearly off the bed as he forced her to come closer.  “I don’t like tricks, especially when played on me,” he growled, soft enough to send goosebumps up her spine and a delicious thrill elsewhere she wasn’t even supposed to think about, her mouth going dry as she stared up at him.  Hmm.  

“Then what type of tricks do you like?” She murmured, turning her eyes down before back up to stare at him through her lashes.  He released her and she smirked as she sat back down.  There.

“You’re married.”  He spat the word as if he didn’t believe in it.  

“I am.  And a queen, and a fighter, and a woman.  I thought you didn’t approve of titles, yet you go throwing mine around as though I ought to wear a sign around my neck with all of them for you to list off.”  She countered, voice sharp.  “Which do you prefer, Loki?”

He froze, quite obviously not used to someone catching him at his own game, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open for a good half a second before shutting it once more.  Natasha’s lips curled in a smile, pleased with herself for having taken him so off guard, before she sighed and leaned back, surveying him once again.  Neither said anything for a little while before Nat got bored with the game and stood up, walking around him.  

“So, Loki.  You dance?”

“I do,” he said, sounding bored though she could feel his gaze upon her as she moved around the room.  

“Shall I have musicians brought up to play for you, or can you suffice on your own?  I could hum, I suppose.”  

“I have imagination enough,” he said quickly, his grimace all teeth and eyes sharp as razors, his fists tightening at his side as he tipped his head upwards, as though thinking himself far more important than to be forced to prove to her why he belonged in her service.  Had he not been given to her as a way to keep her entertained?  Likely Thor thought that with the acquisition of a new servant, particularly one as intriguing as Loki, Natasha might forget about her questions earlier their first evening when they’d sat side by side and she’d asked him about whether she was allowed to spar with him or not.  His answer had been a thoughtful smile and a promise of the possibility, but nothing concrete, nothing she could find she was certain of, and so Loki was meant to keep her attention elsewhere.  Loki, it seemed, was about as pleased with the substitution as Nat.  

“Will you dance for me then, Loki?” Natasha asked when the Jotun did not move, watching as his jaw clenched but his hands relaxed.  He refused to lower his head, and she could respect him for maintaining his dignity, and yet without warning his body began to undulate to some tune he had in his mind, the tempo slow enough to allow Natasha a chance to see every muscle that shifted under his blue skin, watch every tremor ripple through him as his arms spread out to his side, as his head tipped back, eyes shut and mouth open.  She stood, transfixed, as the gold chains dangling around his throat shifted, and for half a second she thought very much how she’d like to sink her teeth into his throat and suck until the blue skin turned deep blue under her attention, until his lips parted and he keened and panted beneath her as he did in front of her.  She could see the outline of his ribs as his upper torso seemed almost disconnected from the very real stillness of his hips and thighs, the bangles around his ankles silent as those around his wrists jangled gently, a music of its own she supposed.  She shifted, somewhat uncomfortable with the heat rising between her legs, as his dance drew to a close, his movements slower than before and his eyes opened to stare into her own.  Her heart jumped into her mouth as his half-lidded gaze fell on her and it was her turn to flush underneath his attention.  

“Well done,” she complimented, needing to clear her throat before she spoke.  Right.  Queen.  “You may remain here.  I have matters to see to with my husband,” she said, dipping her head and moving out of the room as swiftly as she could manage without tripping over herself and making a real mess of things.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t fair for the thin, lithe Jotun to affect her as he did so.  She was married, she’d consummated that marriage and yet . . . and yet all she could think of was how she wanted him beneath her, wanted her name to roll off his tongue and lips before she captured them with her own harsh kisses, how she wanted to see just what sort of strength hid beneath the taut, marked skin.  

Damn him.  

“Thor,” she called, grateful as she saw him rounding towards where their room had been.  He smiled and stopped to engage her into conversation, but the question about her newest member of staff disappeared off his lips as she crashed her own against his, backing him up until his back hit the door.  He paused in surprise, not having expected the public affection, but within seconds he had his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight as he undid the door to the room and pulled her in after him.  She had him on his back and beneath her, sheathed inside her body a few minutes later, her eyes screwed up as she chased her own orgasm, Thor very near to his own as well, and tried not to feel guilty as she imagined the black-haired Jotun beneath her, hips thrusting into her and hands grasping at her hips so hard it bruised.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took awhile to get to this, and I apologize. I'm trying to cycle through my fics and update them, but we'll see how well that goes haha. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few days she tried not to let Loki get the best of her, though she admittedly enjoyed learning how clever he was, especially with word games, she worried at how much she might give away when he got going.  The last thing she needed him, or anyone, to realize was what she felt for him.  Physical though it might have been he simply didn’t need to know.  She had enough to take her mind off of him at least.  Frigga, the darling that she was, had set aside some ladies in waiting for her to decide from, and Nat was doing everything she could to let the woman know that, honestly, the last thing she needed were ladies in waiting.  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the woman’s efforts to make her comfortable, but it was never something she’d needed before.  So why would she need it now?

“Just tell her you don’t want them,” Loki said with a huff and roll of his eyes as he reclined on her bed, as bored as she was with so little to do.  She hated how lovely he looked, sprawled out like that, the blue of his skin gorgeous against the silk golden sheets of the bed she and Thor had laid on last night, Nat having imagined Loki atop her as Thor had driven into her so hard, as if he’d been determined to put a baby in her--.

She didn’t want to think of that, couldn’t worry about it right then.  The last thing she needed was a bunch of handmaidens realizing she never got her damn courses every month.  Ivan had all but set her up for failure in arranging this marriage, and yet there was nothing that could be done about it.  

And she did not wish to have herself supplanted by one of the women when Thor found out she couldn’t conceive.  

Loki, however it happened, seemed to almost sniff out her fear.  He sat up on his elbows, long black hair tangling over his bared chest, the chain collar around his throat catching the light.  He frowned.  “What are you so afraid of?”

“What?” She asked, looking taken aback and balking inwardly.  She hated when he did that.  “Nothing.  Why would I be afraid?”

“Why would I be asking if I knew?” Loki smirked.  “But you are.  And don’t bother denying it.  I can smell it.”

Her fear melted into anger, and her mouth turned downwards in a scowl.  “Stop that,” she said, stepping away from him and moving instead to stand in front of one of the many windows of her and Thor’s room, eager to take her mind off of the fact that he could seem to smell her fear.  What the hell was that about, anyway?  Weird.

But what else did it apply to?

She felt another cold wave of fear, recognized just over the sound of the bed shifting, Loki having gotten to his feet to meet her where she stood.  

“What is it that frightens you?”  He asked again, voice soft, concerned.  

It was none of his damn business and she shrugged off the hands he placed on her shoulders.  They simply rose once more and massaged at the tense muscles found there, his touch cool and refreshing against skin that felt too hot and too tight for her comfort.  How did he do that?  She relaxed against her will, admittedly, and let him work his magic.  

She hadn’t anticipated it loosening her tongue as well.  “I don’t need the women, but more than that I don’t want them.  I don’t want anyone to learn . . . I can’t bare children.”  She murmured, the words ghosting out of her mouth in the softest, almost resigned, sighs.  Loki paused and she was glad not to be looking at him.  That was all women were supposed to be good for, after all.  Having children.  She grimaced and pulled away from him.  Great.  WHy the hell had she opened her damn mouth?  She knew it was dangerous to have him around, especially with her guard lowered so much.  Fuck and now he knew, and once he told Thor--.

He turned her around quickly, likely sensing her panic once more that she knew to be radiating off of her.  He tipped her chin upwards, forcing her to meet his eyes and in them she saw a sliver of sympathy and understanding.  She hated the former, hated it with everything inside her, but before she could tell him to knock it off he cupped the side of her face and looked as if he made to kiss her.  She struggled away at that, looking taken aback.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, cheeks reddening.  “I am your queen--.”

“No you’re Natasha,” he murmured, closing the distance between them even as she pushed a hand to his chest.  She felt herself beginning to really panic now.  Was this going to be used as leverage against her now?  He would hold it above her head until she gave him what he wanted?  God she was an idiot!  “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised as he took her hand in his and squeezed.  “I’m going to help you.  It’s simple really,” he promised her, which only made her stomach flop.  Simple?  How the hell could this be simple to fix?

“I don’t think you get it.”  She said, and her voice hardened considerably.  “I’ve tried fertility herbs, balms, baths, been to more priests and priestesses than I can count.  It won’t happen,” she said as her eyes narrowed.  For half a moment she’d started to believe him, but that was more foolish than anything else that had happened thus far.  How could he fix her, really?  Whatever Ivan had done to her when she’d been forced to go from man to man in her youth, when he’d used her body for everything he could get out of it, it wasn’t reversible.  The concept of even trying to was hilarious, but something in his eyes kept her gaze.  Seriously?

“You’ve never been with a true sorcerer then,” he murmured as he took one of her hands in his and threaded their fingers.  “I can help you, but you have to help me first.”

“What do you need?” She asked, concern darkening her voice and her eyes.  She’d been stupid to think there wasn’t a catch.  

With his free hand he pointed to his collar.  “I need you to remove this.  It keeps my magic contained so I can’t escape, as well as keeps a track on me so I cannot go anywhere without Thor knowing of it.  I need it removed.”

Oh.  Right, simple fix.  She swallowed thickly.  “I don’t have the key or ability to take it off.  If we go to Thor--.”

“If you go to Thor and tell him you cannot conceive do you really think his first thought will be to right that?” Loki murmured.  “Obviously he wasn’t your first.  He’s far too happy when you’re both done for you to have been a virgin, which means you’ve had more than your fair share of experience.”

She flushed and opened her mouth to say something when he pressed on anyway.  “So he has no real obligations to keep you as a wife save that he thinks you will still be with child.”

Hearing it spelled out like that, well, it hurt.  She licked her lips, trying not to let it catch on that she thought he’d really been interested in her.  But Loki was right, and she knew it, which only made it hurt all the more.  He’d find someone else, someone virginal and fertile, young who could carry as many children as he could hope to give her.  

And to bring it up to Thor would certainly not only mean she’d be divorced but likely beheaded, especially if she suggested to Thor that he could unlock Loki to fix it.  

She’d opened her mouth to once more speak when a knock at the door cut her off, and the pair of them sprang apart as though they’d been caught doing something illegal, Natasha sitting on the bed and picking up a book as Loki struggled to look bored out of his mind, as though he hated waiting around for her to finish.  

“Might I come in my lady?” Frigga asked quietly.  “I believe I have a solution to your boredom.”  

Great.  Natasha put her book down and called for her to enter, forcing herself to smile as Frigga and another, dark haired woman entered, the latter dressed in thick leather trousers, her dark black hair pulled back into a ponytail.  She was well tanned, as though she’d been outside for some time, and the way she held herself . . . interesting, she was more masculine than her delicate features let on.  

“Natasha, this is the Lady Sif,” Frigga smiled.  “And she has offered ot be your sparring partner, as well as a handmaiden, if it please you.”  

Oh, well there was improvement.  Natasha had asked Thor the other day whether or not she was allowed to spar with the knights and other fighters, and he’d all but laughed at the suggestion, shaking his head and squeezing her hand.  

“No my lady, for if any of them were to strike you they would surely lose that hand or their head.” He said.  “And so I think you’ll find you do not have many opponents.”

It hadn’t been the answer she’d hoped for, but word must’ve gotten around to Frigga otherwise the other woman wouldn’t have been there.  Natasha allowed herself a smile as she stood to receive Sif, catching Frigga’s curious gaze as she asked the woman questions.  She’d been born in Asgard, had grown up in the palace, but upon having only daughters her father had taught her how to fight, rather than how to sew and curtsey.  She’d worked her way up to a place in Alfheim’s honor guard before she had to come home to help her father, now too old to work and do much else.  So Sif had offered herself up to Natasha’s companionship, hoping that she’d find a place where she could continue to fight as well as be of use.  Natasha felt Loki stiffen behind Natasha, as though he’d detected something she hadn’t, but she couldn’t find a suitable reason not to accept her right then and there.  Frigga had been doing her best, and she embraced the former queen tightly in gratitude.  

“I’ll meet you this afternoon to train if you don’t mind, Lady Sif,” Natasha said with a smile that the dark haired woman returned, albeit she didn’t look near as excited as she thought she might.  Frigga made up for it, beaming at the both of them, before she and Sif both took their leave.  

“What’s wrong?” Nat asked, looking to Loki when they’d gone and suitable time had passed for them to be at least down the hall.  

“She’s one of Thor’s old paramours,” he murmured.  “You were afraid of being supplanted, I fear she may be the one to do it.”  

Great.  Just what she’d been looking forward to.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short update, yes, but an update nonetheless. Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

Sif, as it turned out, seemed to hardly want anything to do with Natasha.  They kept out of one another’s way as much as possible, Sif appearing to her every day to ask if there was anything that the new queen needed of her, and when Natasha told her, as she normally did, that no she had no requirements of the woman, she’d disappear to help with her parents.  There was honor in that, Natasha supposed, though the reminder from Loki had that she’d been familiar with Thor played on her mind every so often.  Not that things between herself and her new husband weren’t excellent, because they really were.  He was affectionate, thoughtful, easy to please to say the least.  He even seemed surprised to hear that Sif was back within his domain, and Nat had been unable to detect a lie in his words.  Normally she was damn good, but the fact that Frigga had known better than to inform Thor of his old flame’s return only spoke volumes to what Loki had assumed, that Sif and Thor had been intimate at some point.  At least enough to make her mother in law anxious about it.  

As she’d said, however, she did take her up on the opportunity to train, not wanting to pass up the ability to expel some of the extra energy she’d been feeling.  

“You’re sure that’s wise?” Loki asked, his voice sarcastic as he followed her down to the training grounds where Natasha and Sif had agreed to meet.  “She could want to kill you to take your place and you’re willing to put a sword in her hand and give her the opportunity?”

“A dulled sword, and I keep you close by, don’t I?” Natasha fired back without missing a beat.  Despite the anxiety that Loki’s had tried to cause she felt better than she had in sometime, the familiar coarse fabric of her trousers good and tight, comfortable as they stretched and kept with her as she walked.  The sword felt as though a part of her arm had been put back into its proper place, and she couldn’t have been happier to at least have the ability to swing it at a moving target again.  And if Sif was as good a fighter as she claimed to be then it would be a decent challenge to keep from being hurt too badly.  

And if she wanted Natasha dead?

Well, it would undoubtedly put an end to Nat’s worrying about not having a child, a worry that Sif’s presence had done nothing to assuage, only making it worse.  If anyone was to notice, and benefit from the situation, then it would be Sif.  Unless Natasha could manage a way to make it turn out for the both of them.  Doubtful as that all seemed she couldn’t help but hope.  

Sif was already waiting, though the true surprise was that she had Thor with her, the king eyeing her with something akin to surprise in his eyes.  It vanished as he heard Natasha’s incoming footsteps grow closer and his attention turned to his wife and Loki just behind her, her companion having fallen a few paces behind to ensure that Thor didn’t get the wrong idea.  The last thing he wanted was to be seen as impudent and get into trouble due to it.  Natasha couldn’t blame him.  Her lips pulled back into a wide smile as Thor pulled away from Sif, who’d wrapped her arms cautiously around herself and seemed to be taking precautions of her own to keep from seeming too familiar with him, and instead Thor moved to embrace and kiss his wife.  

“I heard that you meant to train and decided to come watch myself.  Your spirit makes me most proud, my darling,” he assured her with a bold grin as he pulled away to give her a once over.  “And I must confess to having wished to see you adorn trousers of your own.  They are finely made.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that.  “You’ve seen me with nothing on and you are taken by the way my body looks while clothed?”

“There’s something to be said about the imagination,” he teased her.  It only made Natasha laugh more.  From the corner of her vision she caught Sif looking more than uncomfortable, and felt a twinge of pity.  It couldn’t have been easy to be in her situation, no matter how thankful that Natasha was that it had all happened this way.  It was better than living under Ivan’s thumb, at the very least.  

“Go to the side if you’re determined to watch Sif and I work,” she said, shoving him with the flat of her palm towards the edge of the training square that had been sectioned off for the both of them, and Thor went after stealing another kiss.  Loki had already taken his place, watching Sif keenly to try and discern what he could from her, and Natasha felt a pang of appreciation.  He’d done far too much for her already, she’d not expected any sort of loyalty from him given his position.  She certainly wouldn’t have given any had the circumstances been reversed.  She and the warrior in front of her squared off against one another, Natasha’s eyes taking in Sif’s wide stance, watching how she favored her left side rather than her right when it came to holding her weight.  Similarly she could feel Sif doing the same to her.  

“Do you have any rules?” Sif asked, digging her right toe a little deeper into the sand that they were standing on.  Natasha shook her head.  

“Don’t think there’s much you could do with a dull blade,” she said with a shrug.  Had she not been looking for it she might’ve missed the way that Sif’s lips quirked slightly.  It was the only sign she got before the woman launched into action, her blade singing as it cut the air and came crashing against Natasha’s own, the queen just as swift in raising hers to defend herself against the attack.  She shoved Sif back with a harsh ‘shing!’ of metal scraping metal, before rushing to attack as well, swinging hers to slash upwards at Sif.  The woman opposite her parried, and they began a dance far more common to them than the popular ones of the court, their feet moving quick as they gained, then lost, ground to the other, swords little more than a flash of metal.  Loki grinned as he watched Natasha hold her own, while Thor’s eyes widened.  He’d trained with Sif before, but never would have guessed that the mild-mannered woman he’d married would’ve been as accomplished as the other.

Though in the end it was Sif who would’ve won, she knew her place well and dropped her sword in what looked like a moment of surprise as Natasha’s blade knocked against her knuckles.  Loki and Natasha both caught it, though Thor was none the wiser, simply cheering for his wife, while the other three knew all too well that to defeat one’s sovereign was a less than positive way to start out a working relationship.  Natasha didn’t blame her at all, and smiled as she offered Sif her hand to help the dark haired woman back to her feet, the both of them panting and sweating from the activity.  Sif took it with a word of thanks, and as soon as Natasha had turned to her husband he’d enveloped her in his enormous arms, squeezing her and pressing a kiss to her lips.

“You did wonderfully,” he crowed, eyes bright, as though it had been him who’d just won.  Nat didn’t question it, simply smiling and thanking him for his kind words while Sif took the both of their swords and made to return them to the weapons shed with the other training gear.  

“Wait, Sif!”  Natasha called out with a smile as she managed to untangle herself.  Barely.  

“Yes my lady?”

“You fought well today.  Thank you for that,” she said.  Sif’s eyes fell onto her, then up to Thor’s face, then back to her in a matter of seconds.  

“Of course.  It was no trouble,” she said with a brief curtsey before disappearing from the training area, leaving Natasha slightly confused.  Thor urged her not to worry, as Sif had always been slightly reclusive after she’d lost a battle, and he assured her that she’d find her back on the training field later that afternoon practicing to try and better herself.  Natasha thought it over, and counted on it.  Good.  She wanted to have words with the woman away from the eyes and ears of the other two men.  

 

More than that, excusing Loki to the library, or his room, or wherever he wanted that evening gave her more time to think over his proposal as she made her way back to the training area.  He wanted her to remove his collar, but all she could see was a bad idea stemming from his wish.  It was kept contained for a reason, she was certain, unknowing of just how powerful he was when all was said and done.  Would he even consider helping her if she managed to take that off?  He was slippery with his words and his actions were anything but clear, so what the hell was he playing at with asking her for that sort of freedom?  Besides, if Thor thought it best to keep his power controlled like that . . . well, it was likely that something that made Thor afraid should have had the same effect on her.  

And yet.  

And yet she needed a child.  

As expected Sif was practicing already, and Natasha smiled as she stopped just in the frame of the door leading to the training area, watching as Sif’s sword hacked into the training dummy that had been provided.  This was a real sword, edges freshly sharpened as it bit into the wood of the figure in front of her.  Her thrusts and swings were flawless, never using more energy than she had to.  Had she fought like that today, rather than going easy on her as Natasha realized she had, Nat might not have won.  She’d certainly have had a lot more bruises to count for the time.  It was kind, and smart, of Sif to have kept from displaying her prowess so obviously to the king by taking down his queen, and yet a part of Natasha felt slighted.  She was just as good as Sif.  Perhaps not near good enough to make the guard of Alfheim, but dammit she was accomplished enough in her own right.  She could hold her own, and even if she understood Sif’s motives it still chafed at her own sense of pride.  

“You’re damn impressive,” she called out, and the sword in Sif’s hand was pointed towards Natasha’s head, though a few feet away, before the woman realized what she was doing.  Her blue eyes went wide and petrified before she dropped the sword to her side and dipped into a bow.  Nat waved it away and told her to stand.  “I shouldn’t have scared you, but Thor said you’d be down here.  Practicing.”  She smiled.  “You should’ve won today, though I am certain Thor appreciates you letting me take the victory.”

“My queen I’m not sure--.”

“Natasha, please.  I’m not near as deserving of the respect of the title as Frigga is,” she said.  At least her manners were good.  Judging by the way that Sif’s lips quirked when she stood she felt the same.  Well at least they were on the same page.  

“You fought well today, Natasha.  My lady,” Sif said, sheathing the sword and wiping her forehead with her forearm, eyes bright as she watched Nat grow closer, one of her hands inching towards the training dummy and fingering the places where Sif’s sword had taken out pieces of the wood, huge chunks at a time.  

“I’m not near as good as you, it seems,”  Nat said with a modest laugh.  “You’ll have to teach me some time how to get to being as good as you are.  I want to be able to defend myself.”

Sif’s brow furrowed, Natasha able to hear it in her voice.  “You have a husband to protect you.”

Nat’s hand tightened over the chunk of wood she’d been flicking her fingers over.  “Men aren’t always there to protect the women,” she murmured, unable to keep the darkness from entering her words.  “I’d rather be able to protect myself than rely on anyone else.”  

Sif didn’t answer this comment, but Natasha felt the woman’s eyes on her back.  Another discussion for another day, she supposed.  She really didn’t want to talk about it, how she’d learned those damned lessons.  She let her shoulders slump a little before turning back, the smallest of smiles cracking her otherwise impenetrable facade.  “So.  You’ve been here before?  I expect you know a great deal more than I do about the land, and I would be very grateful if you could help me get the hang of it.  Where I come from there’s a great deal less greenery and much more snow,” she admitted, forcing herself to smile.  “And I know it sounds tedious, and I am certain that you have other duties to attend to, but I would very much appreciate any help I can get.  If I’m supposed to be queen, well, I’m supposed to know what’s best for my people. I can’t very well know that without learning more about the land itself.”  

There.  That was about as diplomatic as she could put it, and Sif didn’t seem to be able to think of a way to get herself out of it.  After all she had agreed to be Natasha’s lady in waiting, and that came with duties that would take precedence to whatever it was Sif wanted.  Natasha only hoped it worked in her favor to keep her away from her husband as well, and to keep Loki from pressing the subject that they’d talked about before.  So long as she staggered the visits so that she could easily explain away why her courses hadn’t come for a week, without getting anyone’s hopes up, then she might be able to pull it off.  

Might.  

“Yes, of course my lady.”  Sif bowed her head and didn’t raise it again until Natasha allowed her to, the two saying very little else before Nat turned to leave.  She wasn’t anticipating Loki to have followed her out to the training yard, a book in hand and a grin on his face.  

“I think I found a spell that can help you,” he said as soon as they were certain they were out of earshot, the Jotun practically bursting to tell Natasha.  She felt her heart stop slightly at that, turning her gaze away.  “You just need to free me and--.”

“Loki, I don’t know if I can do that,” she admitted quickly, not looking over at him as she grasped onto the edges of her skirt to keep her fingers from trembling.  What would Ivan say if he saw her then, scared of her own servant?  She commanded no body, no matter what power they wanted to give her, and old habits died hard as she shied away when he reached out for her, his face bewildered.  

“Natasha you will be found out if you do not--.”

“Loki, I don’t want to.  I can’t.”  She said, voice hushed and quick, nearly  too afraid of what would happen if she dwelt on the subject of much longer.  There was always a chance that they could be overheard and if Thor caught wind that she was thinking of freeing Loki--that she couldn’t have children--.  

How had it all gotten so confused in the past few minutes?  She’d thought she had a plan, one to keep her free of such difficulties, one that would allow her more _time_ to come up with another plan.  How foolish of her to send Loki right to the place where he would get the most answers.  

He caught her wrist and twisted her around until she was facing him, towering over her as he backed her up into a wall.  Her heart pounded in her chest, flashbacks of this scene played out one too many times in the past, with Loki replaced by another, made her heart leap into her throat.  ‘God, no.’

He caught the fear in her gaze and pulled away as though she’d burned him, disbelief thick in his gaze as he swallowed hard, watching Natasha try to regain her breath.  

“I can’t.  Loki, I’m sorry.  It’s too risky,” she managed to say between gulps of breath, willing her heart to slow down, to go back to normal, as she straightened her skirts and forced her face to go blank.  “That’ll be all for the night, I think.  You can return to your--.”

His lips pressed hard against hers, and while she’d thought he would be cold he was so _warm_ it made her groan.  Too soon he was pulling away from her, cheeks ruddy with deep blue blood as he stared impassively down at her.  

“Don’t be afraid, Natasha.  I won’t betray you.  I would never betray you,” he hissed, turning on his heel and walking away, the gold of his chains clinking gently with every movement.  She tried not to think about how often she’d heard that in her life, and all the times she’d been made a fool for being taken advantage of.  Her fingers ghosted up to her lips but pulled away soon after.  No.  She had to remain strong.  She would figure it out herself if she had to.  The chance couldn’t be taken.  

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short update, mixed with the long delay, but hopefully this continues to keep the story rolling and I'll have more time to write the next chapter! It's gonna be a fun one. Enjoy!

Months passed.  Sif and Natasha trained, Thor took her to bed every night, and every day Loki kept Natasha busier with his plans and promises of how to ensure that she had everything she wanted if she would simply remove the collar from around his throat.  She began to feel that it was choking her more so than it did him, his persistence coming in forms of verbal, as well as physical.  More often than not he pressed her up against the wall as he had the time before that, dragged his teeth down her throat until she shivered and shuddered, and whispered to her that even if she did not want to have a child, if she took the collar off he could give her whatever else it was she wanted.  She wanted power?  He would provide it.  She wanted wealth?  He would make her the richest woman in the nine kingdoms.  

So long as she let him out.  

Each time she pushed him away, and each day he came back for more, his desire for her feeding her own want for him and his body.  Damn him.  But she would find her own way, ensure the timing was right when she could talk to Thor about the situation.  He would be understanding, had been when she’d told him that she had wanted him to take her and Sif’s sparring seriously, so why would this be any different?  What was more she rarely saw Sif or Thor even so much as cross paths, easing the strain and worry she’d felt before for so long, petrified that Sif would supplant her and she would be divorced, if not beheaded, for leading the king astray.  But no, he enjoyed her body as well as her mind, and though Loki would draw his fingers to the curve of her backside, or palm her breasts through her shirt, she would stop him before he got too far.  What they had was a hot, quick thing that would simmer down and disappear with time.  And who knew?  Perhaps her body might right itself given time and children would be provided for Thor and for his kingdom.  If not . . . well, she had some time to think up a backup plan.  Not much, but she had confidence in the quickness of her mind.  

So when Loki came to her, out of breath and red eyes accusing, the words rushing from his lips about how Sif had confessed to Thor that Natasha had yet to show any sign of being pregnant, let alone have her courses, she took the story with a slight bit of incredulity.  Was this another scheme of his to get her to try and take off the magic-restricting collar?  Since his previous ones had not worked, perhaps he thought that fear would be the better avenue to explore.  She opened her mouth to call him false, to tell him that his tricks were getting old, when the knock on the door chilled her words, Thor on the other side asking for entrance.  Her blood chilled.  How much had he heard?  Loki, too, went stock still as he moved across the room with swift, light feet, tossing Natasha a book to bury her nose in and pretend to be busy as he lounged near the side.  

“Enter,” Natasha said, wishing her voice could be stronger.  

Her husband strode in without waiting for another word, and though he was smiling there was the quickest of flashes of something . . .  something off that she wasn’t quite sure how to handle.  He flicked his chin at Loki and gestured for him to leave.  “I need time alone with the queen,” he said, and his voice was far more subdued than before.  

Loki hesitated.  The pause was long enough to make Thor’s hands fist and his knuckles to whiten, while Natasha looked over at Loki and nodded.  It was best not to make him cross, she thought, and so with slow feet Loki excused himself from the room and shut the door behind the two.  

Now Natasha’s heart quickened, now her breath came quickly, even as she set her book down to the side and smiled easily at her husband.  “My king.  How can I help you?”

“Are you with child?”  He asked.  He never had been good with words.  It was a miracle he hadn’t talked himself into a slew of wars if this was his idea of tact.  

She gave herself half a minute to appear shocked, counting quietly in her head and watching as he shifted anxiously in the silence of it, uncomfortable to the extreme.  “Who came to you with accusations against me?”  She asked, voice quiet, hurt.  She could play the injured bird without issue, having more than enough experiences to draw from to ensure it sounded authentic.  

“That is not an answer.”

“No, but if someone is telling you my personal business--.”

“Natasha, this is not simply your business.  It’s mine.  It’s the country’s.  I cannot live forever, and my father left only one son in his wake.  If I were to fall wrong from my horse, or we were to be attacked without warning from Jotunheim or Muspelheim--.”  

She got to her feet, forcing herself to walk towards him and keep his eye contact as long as he would allow.  He floundered for more explanations before she took his face in between her hands and brought her lips to his.  His responding kiss was passionate, emotional to the extreme enough to take her breath away.  

“Thor, my love, you will have heirs,” she said, her eyes locking with his.  “You will.  Do not doubt that for one moment.  You will leave behind a slew of children to fight and squabble in the great hall, to turn your hair grey with worry, to crease your brow with anger or bring tears to your eyes with pride.  Norns be good it will be both.”  She brushed her thumb against his cheek, her lips curling into a light-hearted, affectionate smile.  She wasn’t lying.  She’d never said they would be hers.  The truth was enough to make his shoulders slump, and he shifted his head slightly to kiss the palm of her left hand, beard scratching against her skin, newly hardened from the sword play she and Sif had been doing.  “Now, I need you to tell me who it was that told you this so I can address them before they can go out and say such things to others.”  Her voice was firm, brokering no other option.  She’d heard Frigga take it with him from time to time, and he responded well enough.  

“Sif.”

Ah.  So Loki had been right.  Natasha’s brow turned down with real concern.  “Sif?  Why would my lady in waiting tell you such things?”  

Yes, so long as she turned it back to Sif, tried to make it seem as though it was preposterous, well, she might have a chance.  Bless him for being kind enough to take the bait.  

“I do not know.  She said it was out of concern for me.”

“As her king I can understand why she would wish for your best interest.  Is that all she sees you as?”  Natasha asked.  She wasn’t accusing him, wouldn’t dare dream of it when she knew it would only bring more problems.  If she played it as though she were the victim, as though Sif’s accusations were a personal blow against her then Thor would fill in the missing information about why Sif was coming to him with the information at all.  She could already see it working across his face, the creases of his eyes tightening, becoming more pronounced, as he supplied his own conclusions.  If Sif and his history was as Loki had said it was, then he wasn’t daft enough to think Sif had no reason to want Natasha taken from her position of power.  

“She is a good woman.  Faithful to you,”  Thor promised Natasha, who simply arched a brow.  

“A faithful woman would keep the private information of the woman she serves,” Natasha reminded him.  “I hate to imagine what else she might be saying for the good of the listener.”  

That was too far, apparently, and Thor pulled away from her quickly, movements jerky.  “She is faithful,” he reasserted.  “I will ask her to clarify what was said, why she was led to believe it.  Perhaps there is another with a silver-tongue who tells her lies.  Your servant is quite good with a spun tale or two.  He told me once he was a prince.”  He allowed himself a guffaw of a laugh.  “I near believed him and the men who’d captured him almost had him out of cuffs by the time he finished his story.”  

“I do not believe it would be Loki, though I will address it with both of them, husband.”  There was no room for another option, and she cocked her head to the side when he opened his mouth to disagree.  “It is my business and my personal credit at stake, after all.  Allow me to deal with it, Thor.  Please.”  

His lips pressed hard together as he considered her request, but soon enough nodded.  “Very well.  If you deem it to be the necessary option then by all means, please do.”  Quick as a heartbeat he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss chaste, as though they were children.  “I trust your judgement my queen, and I am sorry for the manner in which I confronted you about this.”  

Natasha waved one of her hands and smiled all the way until the door closed behind him, assuring him the situation was not a bother and she was glad he was comfortable enough to bring the matter to her directly.  Only when he left did she collapse to the floor, her whole frame trembling and her breath coming in shaky gasps.  Too close.  Far too close.  

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, take me long enough to update this? I'm sorry, I'm still working on where this is going, so hopefully I'll get it figured out soon. Thanks so much for reading!

Natasha took a moment to collect her thoughts before deciding that she would confront Sif about everything first, to get to know just why the hell she would go to Thor with news such as that.  As far as she knew she’d been kind to her, gracious enough.  She’d certainly took her in as her lady in waiting and sparring partner without having to.  Loki’s words about how Sif would be the one to distract Thor, that there were still emotions there, hit her hard in the chest.  She didn’t want to think about losing Thor; not only had she grown to care for him, but he was her safety net.  Without him, she had nothing.  Nothing but Loki, who was a sorcerer.  

And a liar, according to Thor, unless it was to be believed that he was, in fact, a prince.  The idea was curious.  Either way, she would only go to him if the future meeting with Sif didn’t end well.  She hoped it didn’t come to that, not wanting to tempt fate.  

Besides, if this gamble didn’t pay off, and Sif had gone to her husband with false, unproven accusations, what would she do with the truth?  

She found Sif sparring with one of Thor’s friends, a warrior and close confidante by the name of Fandral, and judging by the way the two moved with one another they’d been old friends as well.  Sif seemed to know his moves far before he did, and he seemed used to having to counter her over and over again.  Though Natasha’s face remained impassive when she asked Sif for a private word, she swore she saw the briefest flash of triumph in Sif’s face.  Was there something she thought she knew that Natasha didn’t?  Because she was willing to bet it wasn’t because of the clever way in which she disarmed Fandral.  The warrior bowed at both the ladies before making a hasty, wise, retreat.  Only once he’d gone did Natasha gesture for Sif to follow her with a tilt of her head, already starting off down one of the lesser known paths.  

“Might I change first before a walk, my queen?”  Sif asked, cordial as all get out.  It got under Natasha’s skin faster than anything else the woman had done of yet.  

“No, you may not,” Natasha said simply, watching the kind smile on Sif’s face disappear, realizing now just what sort of meeting this was going to be.  Good.  If Natasha was made to feel uncomfortable, then so was Sif.  Yes, it was petty, but by the Norns it was no less than Natasha thought Sif deserved.  

“What can I help you with, my queen?”  Sif asked, feigning innocence with wide, curious eyes.  

“Have I offended you, lady Sif?’  Natasha asked, not bothering to answer Sif’s questions.  She would find out soon enough.  “My husband came to me with accusations which you cannot confirm.”  She let the words hang in the air, watched as Sif’s face and shoulders tightened, as though she were anticipating a physical blow.  “Why would you do this to me?  Unless I have offended you?  Though I think your presumption to know matters of the throne and my own life ought to be questioned as well, I simply cannot understand what would make you do something so shameful as to go behind my back with your concerns.”  Natasha said, her gaze fixing on Sif, watching every flinch the woman made, how her grip tightened further on her sword.  Not all that surprising, Natasha supposed, that her first instinct was to fight and defend herself physically.  

Sif’s mouth opened once the words registered, taken aback by what she’d said, clearly not having anticipated this sort of confrontation, or at least doing a damn good job of acting like it.  Nat doubted there was much she could believe that the woman did.  Still, she wanted her on her side, needed her there even, if she was going to get anything accomplished.  

“My queen, anything I have done has only ever been due to my care and desire to help--.”

“What, in all honesty, did you think would help?”  Nat demanded, hoping that forcing Sif into an early silence would provoke her hand and words--.

“To help my king.”  Sif completed, her gaze growing dark with frustration.  It turned to confusion as Natasha’s own lips quirked upwards in a smirk.  

“I was rather hoping you might say that.  I have one more way you may help him, then my lady, if you find yourself up to the challenge.”  

 

Thor wasn’t expecting to find both women sitting and enjoying one another’s presence when he stepped into he and his wife’s bedroom that evening, exhausted from a long day’s work He stopped just inside the door, taken aback by the sight of them sipping wine and speaking quietly.  Sif stiffened when she caught sight of him, her eyes flitting with uncertainty to Natasha, who simply smiled.  She was fine.  

“Come on in, love,” Natasha said, voice hushed and honey sweet.  Thor closed the door behind him, gaze curious and smile uncertain.  

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit, my lady Sif?”  Thor asked.  

“I have a proposition for the both of you, husband.  I called her here,” Natasha said, not offering Sif a chance to speak.  It wasn’t time for that, not yet.  She took the last remaining goblet from the counter top and poured the heated, spiced wine into it before offering it to Thor.  With sure hands he took it and stole a quick sip, thanking her with a dip of his head, which she returned.  She rather hoped it would loosen his tongue as she’d seen it do before.  She watched his eyes move nervously between the two women, as though anticipating a fight to break out there before him.  Interesting how the first reaction of the both of them was to immediately go on the defense without even knowing a thing about the situation.  She sighed inwardly.  That was an issue she could tackle at a different time.  She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sif turn away.  Right.  She needed to stay on track.  

“Relax, Thor.”  She soothed.  “Have a seat.”

With a murmured thanks he did so, and Nat replaced her wine goblet where his had once stood, steeling herself.  She could do this.  

“Thor I spoke with Sif today and the--the accusations she leveled against me today were false.  I am, indeed, with child.”  She gave a quiet, nervous laugh, the best she could muster though it wasn’t too difficult.  Her stomach knotted at the lie, eyes flickering up to see the amazed happiness light up his face.  It only made it worse, her heart aching.  She wished it were true, Norns, how she wished it were the truth.  Why did Ivan have to muck her life up as he had?

Unaware of her internal struggle, Thor stood quickly and enveloped her in a tight hug, kissing her deeply as he cradled the back of her head.  There was a shuffle of fabric and Natasha pulled away from Thor to see Sif standing.  nat reached out.  Oh, no.  She needed her, needed her immediately.  

“My family does not have a good, ah, history with child bearing,” Natasha said with a quiet sigh, releasing herself from Thor’s grip, albeit with some difficulty.  He was so damn strong.  “And as the days go on I would like to take every precaution possible to ensure that our child survives.”  She murmured.  Taking Sif’s hand in her own, she pressed it into Thor’s enormous one.  Closed his fingers around it.  “As I cannot warm your bed at night, husband. I would like Sif to.  She has already agreed to it and with my blessing . . . I think it’s for the best.  Just for the time being.”  She said, smiling encouragingly up at him, finding him shocked beyond words.  Sif, who’d been approached with the plan, said nothing, though Natasha could feel her hand flex within Thor’s.  

“You--my love, I appreciate the gesture but do not feel obligated--.”

“I want you to be happy, Thor,” Natasha murmured.  And distracted.  Very, very distracted.  “I love you, and I know you do me, so let me take care of this matter and allow Sif to take care of you.  If we can keep it between us three then there is no cause for scandal, and no one will be any the wiser.  Right?”

He swallowed once, twice, eyes wide and round and mouth falling open to say something before shutting quickly.  Natasha stood on her toes and kissed his lips lightly, cupping the side of his face, before nodding at Sif and heading out.  The door shut slowly behind the two of them as she moved to her own, private bedroom and wrapped her robe around her shoulders and made her way to Loki’s chambers.  She hadn’t seen him all day.  

He opened his door with bleary, red eyes and she all but launched herself at him, pressing her lips hard to his as she held both sides of his face with her hands, stepping him backwards into his room so she could kick the door shut behind them.  He took half a moment before kissing her back, whispering and gasping her name against his lips.  She’d wanted this for so, so long, and for once she finally got it.  He wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, before he took her to bed.  

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Natasha woke up the next morning with Loki’s arm draped around her waist, the chill of his skin a welcome treat in comparison to the usual heat she felt when waking up beside Thor.  Her husband.  She sat up, stomach dropping, her eyes wide and heart thudding so loudly it drowned out her own thoughts.  Not the muffled sound of Loki groaning beside her, though.  Hell.  Shit.  What had she honestly just done?  

‘Good morning,” Loki hummed, fingers threading with hers, lips ghosting over the small of her back as he turned his body so it was closer to hers.  “Last night was incredible.”  

Last night.  The reminder of how he’d felt inside her, her legs wrapped around his waist, his teeth sinking into her throat, hit her like a shield to the face, stealing her air and making her eyes water.  This was insane.  All of it.  Not that Loki had seemed to notice, already kissing his way up her spine.  She could feel him hardening, even, and pressing against her thigh.  Already the all too familiar sensation of heated arousal surged in her gut, and the low whine in her throat told him as much.  

“Someone is just as eager,” he teased, sliding one of his long fingers down, toying with the red curls between her legs.  

“Stop,” she barely managed to gasp, pulling away from his touches, the same ones that had lit her skin on fire the night before.  His face pulled down in confusion as he watched her hurry to rise, pulling a nearby robe around her, the same she’d seen him don many a time.  Silk, per his usual request.  Her skin crawled beneath it.  

“What’s wrong?”  Loki asked, blue skin stretching for miles beneath the deep amber of his sheets, brows drawing together in confusion and curiosity.  

“I just--what we just did--.”  By the norns, what the hell had she just done?  Between giving Thor and Sif her explicit go ahead, well that was one thing.  A man had his affairs, this she knew.  Ivan had told her that much about her father, and that he’d had plenty of his own while she and her mother stayed at home.  What did that make her now, to have done the same thing her father would have, when she could so profoundly remember the pain her mother had felt when put in the same position?  

“Natasha,” Loki reached out to her, skin razing hers even as she pulled away from him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.  No, she couldn’t do this.  

“Last night was a mistake,” she managed to gasp, but just barely, shaking her head.  Loki’s lips twisted into a smile, an unbelieving one at that, but a smile nonetheless.  

“No it wasn’t.  It was the first thing you did of your own volition.  What could be a mistake about that?”  He asked.  

“I have a husband--.”

“And you saw to his attention being diverted elsewhere, did you not?”

Yes, yes she had.  Sif would keep Thor more than significantly distracted for the time.  But that didn’t condone what they’d done, not in the slightest.  She kept shaking her head, pulling in on herself, remembering Ivan’s threats at what would happen to her if she was ever brought back to him.  If Thor found out about what she’d done, about what she’d conspired to do--.  She’d be lucky to escape with her head, and then when Ivan got wind of it she’d been out of luck in a big way.  Thor was her best bet at protection, at staying safe without having to worry about Ivan’s influence.  He could do nothing to her while she was a queen, and while Thor’s interest resided with her own.  

She highly doubted his interest would remain if he found out what she’d just done.  

Loki, in her silence, had taken to his feet and stepped closer to her.  His long fingers wrapped around the back of her head, threading in the red curls and pulling her closer.  She hadn’t noticed she was shaking until he whispered in her ear that it was alright, that things were going to turn out well enough.  That he would make things right.  But how the hell was he expected to do that?  

When she’d finished shaking he’d sat her back down on the bed, moving to the side to pour her a glass of the wine he’d been drinking from the night before.  The red liquid swirled in the clear glass of the goblet as she stared down into it, trying to work over the details of what she’d done.  There had to be some deeper reasoning behind it.  She’d wanted him for quite some time, she knew this, but she’d done well to tamp down her own desires in the past.  They’d never mattered before, so why would she have acted on them this time around?  It didn’t make any sense, none.  

And though having given Thor and Sif permission would have gotten the latter off of her back, would have solidified her as an ally of Natasha’s, it wasn’t quite the position she wanted to be in.  More than that she’d even told Thor that she was with child--.  

The lies were getting worse and worse.  She swallowed the wine, mouth dry, tipping her head back even as some of the liquor spilled past her lips and dribbled down her chin, running down her throat sure as any dagger would slide with ease through her skin.  She was doomed, might as well enjoy it she supposed.  She hadn’t even realized that she’d been saying all of this out loud until Loki knelt before her, one of her hands in his and rising to rest against the metal of his collar.  He held her gaze, hard, not allowing her attention to shift anywhere else.  The wine heated the blood in her veins, reddened her cheeks, and her air came in short gasps as he wrapped her fingers around the delicate chains.  Thor had given her the key to it, this Loki knew though the king had done everything he could to ensure that the information did not reach the Jotun’s attention.  Thor had thought it safest in Natasha’s possession, having noticed that her servant had been dutiful and on his best behavior every time he caught the two together.  Perhaps he’d thought Natasha would keep it a secret, and she had tried, but even now it burned in the back of her mind.  

“Unlock me and I can make all of this right, Natasha.  I swear to you.”  He said, his voice soft, shocking her every inch of skin until she thought it might fall off her bones.  It seemed to her that he could perform magic even when chained up, and once more her mouth felt too dry to work properly.  He kissed the inside of her wrist, lips cool against her, and the gasp of air that left her lips was damn disgraceful.  She was always much better at holding it in, at keeping her emotions tight to her chest so that none else could see them.  

But why should she have to?  Perhaps a little trust . . . what more did she have to lose, really?  Hadn’t she already made a mess of her life?  

“You cannot hurt Thor.  Or this kingdom,” she urged him, fingers tightening where they’d taken hold of the collar and dragging him slightly closer on his knees until his nose was a scant inch or so from her own.  “I mean it.  If I do this swear to me you won’t harm my husband.  Or Frigga, or even Sif, or any of the guard unless your life or my own absolutely depends on it.”

“I swear,” he said, attention never wavering.  Not even she could detect the lie within his voice, and she’d gotten rather good at guessing them.  

“Wait here, then.  I need to dress and get the key.”  

Loki’s face split into the widest grin she thought she'd ever seen, and all she could hope was that she wasn’t making the greatest mistake.  

 

Her husband and Sif were still asleep when she crept into her own chambers, Thor’s snoring echoing in the other room.  Her heart ached to hear him, but knew it was for the best.  It had to be this way--the less attention that was on her, the better.  The easier this would be.  And what was more it kept Sif happy and her mind off of Natasha as well, at least for the time being.  If Loki truly could get her pregnant . . . well she’d find a way of convincing her husband to share her bed once more to complete the lie, to make it true.  The ends would justify the means and Loki--.  She’d let him go by the end of it.  He didn’t do well as a prisoner, and if he wanted to stay of his own volition it was one thing but chaining him up as he’d been?  Restraining him?  An ally could be made so long as one knew how to speak with him, how each piece of the puzzle that made him up fit together.

Natasha, it seemed, was fast becoming an expert.  

 

He was still seated when she came back, drinking his own goblet of wine and giving a quick start when she came back in, key in hand, heart in her throat.  His eyes didn’t fix on the first containing his freedom as she’d anticipated him to, but instead watched her expression.  He offered her a smile, grateful and compassionate all at once, sweet enough to make her heart ache at the thought of losing him after this.  

Her fingers tightened around the key so hard the teeth bit into her flesh.  She would make good on her promises so long as he made good on his.  She reminded him, then, of what she’d said before.  She’d never forgive herself if he hurt those she loved and cared about.  When he confirmed for the third time that he would not she stepped closer to him and fingered the padlock around his golden collar.  It was small, discreet, but kept the rune-engraved metal tight around his neck.  It must’ve hurt to put on, almost looking tighter than it ought to have been.  

“Loki you’re all I’ve got left.  Don’t betray me,” she murmured, flickering her gaze up to look at him through her eyelashes, the key poised just in front of the lock.  

“I will do all in my power to help you as best as I can, Natasha.”  He promised.  She believed him, heard the ring of truth in his words, and slipped the key into the socket of the lock, twisted it until she heard it click, and the clasp of the lock loosened.  She pulled it out of the loop that kept the collar together, dropping the latter to the ground entirely.  

His grin was too sharp, too sudden, and before she knew what’d happened his fist had sunk into her gut and knocked her over double, so hard she couldn’t gasp for breath fast enough.  He was muttering something in her ear, too fast to keep up, and a pain so sharp and severe, worse than the blow he’d given her not seconds ago, blossomed in her lower abdomen.  She shouted and fell to the ground, curling into herself, before catching sight of his fist on its way to crash into her temple.  She’d barely gotten his name out of her lips, a plea for help, for him to stop this surprise attack, before everything around her went black.  

How stupid had she been to believe him and not realize he’d left a bloody hole in his logic?  He’d never promised he wouldn’t hurt her, and she’d never asked him not to.  

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally getting around to updating ALL my fics--hope you enjoy, even though it's a rather short chapter!

Her head ached when she finally came to, and as she groaned softly, moving to put a hand to her head she realized there was already a hand holding hers. Thor had fallen asleep at her side, his head bowed and body moving with every deep breath.  Her mouth parted in a warm smile, dry lips cracked as she tried to clear her throat to wake him up.  Wasn’t he sweet?

“Thor,” she rasped, the name enough to jolt him awake.  His blue eyes snapped open and his brow creased with worry.  

“Natasha,” he breathed.  “Are you alright?  Obviously not entirely, but still--are you in any pain?”  He asked, wetting his lips as he squeezed her hand.  She felt her heart swell, throat tightening with affection. He was far too sweet for her.  

“I’m fine,” she assured him with a nod that made her head pound.  Damn.  Her hand felt weaker than she’d have liked as she brought his to her lips, their fingers laced together.  “Just--can I have some water?”

He nearly tripped over his feet moving to get her a drink, offering the goblet and helping her drink.  The water was cool and heavenly as it slid down her throat, soothing, as chilled as Loki’s fingers had been as they’d gripped her hips tight--.  She choked on the drink, spluttering as Thor pulled the cup away and rubbed her back gently, Natasha coughing, eyes watering and disguising her guilt.  “I’m sorry,” she gasped, looking up at him with red eyes and a heavy heart.  He smiled, shaking his head and smoothing a hand over her hair.  He had no idea.  

“You have nothing to be sorry for, nothing my darling.  Your once servant is a slippery bastard, but we caught him.  He’s been punished for harming you.”  

Her heart jolted at that, her hand covering her mouth to keep from saying anything she shouldn’t have as her brain struggled to process it all.  When she finally made sense, she asked: “What happened when I was out?”

Thor gave a soft sigh and leaned over to kiss her forehead, the way he might’ve if she was sick, or tired.  “Don’t worry about that now.  Just rest, relax.  The healers assured me that you will be back on your feet in no time so long as you don’t aggravate your body too much.”  He half teased, his voice soft and smile kind enough to make her guilt all the heavier as it moved from her stomach to her shoulders.  As she tried sitting up again she winced, abdomen aching.  She caught Thor’s gae as she moved and settled her hand on her lower stomach.  Caught as his gaze grew sad.  

“Thor?”  She asked, voice quiet and palms sweating.  “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Don’t fret about it--you’re already stressed.’

“Thor.”  Her voice broke, hardly allowing herself to hope, though the pangs grew worse.  Almost like--.

“You were bleeding and the doctors . . . I’m sorry my love,” he said with a heavy sigh, squeezing her hand once more.  In the light the bags under his eyes looked even darker, his face had lost some of its boyish innocence that he’d still had when she’d married him.  “They’re certain that the fall and the blows Loki made to your abdomen are what lost you our child.”  

The sob that fell from her lips sounded strangled, anguished, and without another moment Thor embraced her as tight as he dared, whispering how sorry he was when all she could think was that Loki had saved her.  For all she’d been worried about, he’d actually done it.  

 

She’d asked to see Loki as soon as she was deemed strong enough to walk, and though she was accompanied by a pair of guards she managed to shake them off as soon as they'd reached the door leading to the dungeons.  There, wrapped tight in a shawl to keep the chill away, she’d commanded the men to stay at the door while she descended.  

“I would talk to the prisoner myself,” she said, eyes and voice sharp as she stared at their confused faces.  

“My queen we cannot--not after what he has done to you,” one of them stammered,

“I am wise to his tricks now,” she assured them, her gaze and will unwavering.  She wasn’t playing around.  “You may wait just outside but I will have a private audience with the Jotun.”

“Our orders--.”

“Am I not your queen?”  She asked, voice low.  “I have lost more than I can say, gentlemen.  I will be alone when I speak with this creature.|  She spat, her eyes narrowed and fists curling in the fabric of her shawl.  That seemed to take them both aback, and newly muted they excused themselves to stand just where she’d asked them to.  The cells were supposed to be unbreakable after all.  

The chill got worse as Nat descended the stairs leading to the poorly illuminated containment cells.  They’d been in a time of peace for so long all the other inhabitants had either died or been exonerated, making it the perfect and nearly only time she’d be able to speak with Loki.  At least the cold shouldn't have bothered him.  She found him sleeping sitting up against the wall, left eye purpled but looking as though it was healing quickly enough.  The rest of him might as well have been hacked up with a whip or knife of some wicked design.  As she drew closer she noticed he wasn’t lying against the wall, keeping his back an inch or so away from the brick.  She swallowed thickly.  

“Oh Loki,” she whispered, her eyes wide and mouth dry.  His good eye snapped open at the sound, the cut on the side of his lips opening back up as he smiled.  

“I was wondering when you’d visit me,” he said, though he coughed hard enough to make Natasha’s own chest ache.  She moved to crouch in front of the cell door as he slowly shifted his way closer.  As he moved into the light the bruises only got worse.  

“You saved me,” she muttered.  “You didn’t have to--.  You’re hurt because of it.”

He gave a slow, one-shouldered shrug that looked as though it hurt more than anything.  “It was the easiest and best option.”

“You look close to death.”

“Your husband packs a mean punch,” Loki admitted.  “Especially now that he thinks I’ve killed your child.”  

She flushed with his words. “I owe you.”  

The declaration made Loki stiffen for so long she thought he’d died of surprise.  “Do you mean that?”

A pause.  Natasha frowned.  “Yes, I suppose I do.  I’ve gotten my courses, which means I’m fertile again.”  Ideally.  If not, she was at least intact, and it would be some time before Thor pressured her to have a child again.  Especially if he continued with Sif, which she wasn’t sure if he’d do or remain doting.  “It’s all your doing, isn’t it?  You’d promised me and made good on it, so I owe you.”  

Once more his lips spread into a wide smile, this one igniting a fire inside her gut that really shouldn’t have been there, too similar to how he’d smiled for her the night she’d come to him, willing and wanton.  She swallowed thickly, keeping her head about her as best as she could.  

“I need you to get me out of here,” he murmured, “And back to being your servant again.  However you need to sway Thor.”  

The way he phrased it made it sound as though he was less than pleased, his mind likely running away with him, but Thor was her husband, and as such she had the best chance at convincing him she supposed.  Nodding, Nat allowed herself the smallest of smiles.  “Miss me already, do you?”

“Then you and I are going to run away together.”  He said, not responding to her question, his eyes dark and soul searching, fingers reaching out to grasp hers through the bar, lighting her skin on fire in ways she didn’t think possible.  

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

His words echoed in her head long after she’d left him still in the dungeon, not saying one way or another what she would do.  What would she do?  His red eyes had followed her all the way out once she’d turned and headed back up the stairs that she’d descended.  She was amazed he left her without saying anything else about the subject.  It wasn’t like him to let anyone else have the last word.  Now she sat across the table from her husband, masking the shaking her her hands and limbs as best she could.  Loki remained in the dungeons, though Natasha had seen to it that his wounds had been treated and that his treatment overall had improved.  Significantly.  It had been damn embarrassing and appalling how they’d treated him and it made her sick to her stomach to think that Thor might’ve had a hand in that.  She understood his frustration, his pain, and the hurt and suffering from the idea that he lost a child, but still.  The truth of it made Loki’s wounds all the worse.  She was sitting across from him as it was, watching him work on a few treaties between realms, and as he read the crease in his brow only deepened further.  

“What’s wrong, husband?”  She asked, sitting her book down on the table in front of them, breakfast having just been cleared away.  He thought to spend more time with her since the loss and while the affection was enjoyable it didn’t leave her with much time to, well, plot for lack of a better word.

“Laufey, King of Jotunheim, is looking for his son.  Apparently he’s gone missing.”  He set the parchment down to stare at Natasha, the hint of a smile on his lips.  “How can these idiots lose a Jotun?  It’s beyond me.  They lose one, and we cannot seem to be rid of ours.”

Ah, that.  “I won’t part with him.”  She retorted.  

“I cannot, for the life of me, understand why.”  Gone was Thor’s good humor, and instead he turned confused.  And angry.  Always angry when it came to Loki.  “He killed our child.”  

“My own stupidity did that,” she said, and her voice went incredibly soft as her eyes turned from him, the perfect picture of contrition and sorrow.  “I want to make it better.  To prove that I can take care of myself.  Not just to you, though I know you require no proof of it.”  She said, looking up when he began to speak.  “But for myself as well.  And to him. I’ll not have him lording over the idea that he got the best of me and that was that.  You are not the only vainglorious one here,” she half teased, though her voice broke at the strain of keeping her words strong.  In a moment Thor was out of his seat and striding towards her, clasping both of her hands in his and squeezing them tightly.  He looked caught, wanting to give Natasha what she wanted, but not wanting to give Loki the satisfaction.  The freedom.  

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his smile saddened.  “What did that bastard say to you?”  

“He didn’t,” she smiled, kicking herself.  She’d once been so good at hiding her emotions, hiding everything she thought until it became prevalent.  “I told you, I’m just angry with myself.  I never should have let him get the better of me.  I’m not that weak and I fought and trained with Sif to get over that disadvantage--.”

He silenced her with a kiss on the lips, the scratch of his beard familiar and mouth tasting of the rich wine she’d kept from sipping, not wanting her tongue to slip.  Just in case.  

“You are not weak--not in the slightest.  Did he call you that?”

“No.”

“Then where did you get that idea?” He asked, confusion puckering his brow.  

“I’m mad with myself for letting myself get into that situation.”  She muttered so he had to listen closely.  “No one gave me that idea--no one gives me any specific ideas, I come to them myself.  And I want him back.”

“Natasha--.”

“Thor, I want him back to prove to myself it won’t happen again, as much as to him.  Can’t you understand that?”  She asked seriously.  “I mean it.  I want the chance to prove myself stronger.  Smarter.”  She cupped the side of his face, drawing him closer.  His concern for her was sweet, and only made her feel worse.  Maybe she could figure out a way to get them both at once, to make them both happy at the same time, if such a thing was possible.  Her cheeks nearly lit up at the thought, and with it in mind she surged forward to kiss him, all heat and passion and heady desire.  His groan vibrated through her, and he clutched her closely to him, fingers wrapping tight around her waist.  When air became scarce they pulled away, gasping.  Thor’s eyes were lust-glazed, lips swollen, and Nat was sure she looked just as debauched.  

“Husband, please,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him gently on the lips.  He groaned.  

“You could get me to do anything, you know that?  You wield a power far more dangerous than my armies could ever hope to.”  He said, voice hoarse, which only fed the flames in her stomach.  “You carry so much power my love.”

She knew, and she knew just how to use it to her best advantage, too.  She flushed, batting her lashes, sucking on her bottom lip until he leaned in to capture it between his own teeth, sucking hard enough to make her yelp.

“I could take you right here and now, by the gods,” he whispered when he pulled away.  She knew she’d won that fight, and so with an easy grin she pushed him gently away and stood.  Pushing the food and dishes in front of her to the side so there was enough room, she hiked her skirts up and perched herself on the edge, lids heavy as she stared at him with parted, plump lips.  

“Then take me, my king.”  She whispered, delighting in the way his jaw dropped half a second faster than his trousers.  Still (shamelessly) wet from the thought of having both men at once Thor slid into her with ease, and she hooked her legs around his waist when he did, her back arching even as one arm curled around the back of his neck.  Her head tipped to the side to allow him better access to her throat, which he took advantage of, biting and sucking his way down the column of smooth skin.  His name tumbled from her lips over and over again, holding him all the harder as she felt herself nearing the precipice of her climax.  

She didn’t want to give him up.  Why couldn’t she have it all?

 

Two days time and Loki was back in her rooms, Natasha more than pleased with how well his back was healing after she’d sent him to be taken care of upon his release.  Now he was reclining on it on her bed, her head on his chest, his fingers twisting through her hair.  

“I told you I’d get you back here,” Natasha murmured softly.  

“Yes, you did.  Thank you for that,” he said before pressing his lips to the back of her head.  “Now, the second part--.”

“You just got back.”  She looked up at him.  “And I don’t know that I can.”

“Natasha, I’m not staying here as a servant.  A slave.”  The words were bitter and understandably so.  Nat gave a quiet sigh as she watched his face, watched the change in his expression as she stared.  

“I know.  And I don’t blame you for that in the slightest, but navigating that particular request is going to be a headache.  Getting you out was hard as it was.”

Hah, she was hilarious.  

“Besides,” she said quickly before he could comment. “I might have a way that we don’t have to leave, and you don’t have to do this.”  She motioned to the fake collar he’d put on himself, Natasha having removed him of the newer one they’d given him at his request.  His magic was more than free now, and though she’d made him swear up and down that he wouldn’t harm her or anyone else that she loved, it admittedly made her a little nervous.  

He stiffened, but not with the anticipation she’d been expecting.  “How?”

“I’m working on it.  You just need to trust me as I do you, and though it might take sometime I think I can figure it out.”

“You do?”

She punched him lightly on the peck, pouting when his lips spread into a grin.  “Don’t be mean.  Do you trust me?”

“Would I still be listening if I didn’t?”

Well she certainly hoped so.  She shifted where she was sitting so that she perched over him, and her lips pressed gently, tentatively onto his.  She wasn’t sure if this would be something he would want now that they’d gotten to the point that they had, now that things had gotten a little strange between them, but he surged upwards to kiss her all the same, helped her settle when she shifted herself over his lap and took him into her with a soft gasp once he’d breached her.  Not long, she’d promised him.  Not long at all, and she intended to make good on that.  

 

Over the next few days she tried warming Thor up, spending each evening in his bed, which only infuriated Sif further.  Nat caught the not so secret, longing glances the woman made in his direction, and even Loki brought it up.  

“Why is she so needy?  Isn’t she still sleeping with him?”  He asked Natasha, who would’ve gone insane without his company to keep her boredom away, once again lying down with him on her bed, all of her other attendants gone.  As it was, he’d made a show of dancing for the small court just earlier, his gaze cutting into Nat in such a way it was amazing her clothes didn’t burst into flame.  Not that Sif had noticed, too keen on staring at Thor whenever she thought no one was looking.  And Natasha didn’t blame her in the slightest, pitied her.  But if Nat was lucky--and she very much hoped so--then she might have a solution that helped them all.  

“No, not anymore.  Well, not yet.”

“Not yet?”

“Since the whole incident he’s insisted on taking me to bed every evening,” she told him, feeling, more than hearing, his body pause mid-exhale and she knew what was coming.

“I don’t want to hear it.” She said quietly.

“I don’t want you sleeping with him.”

“He’s my husband.”

“Whom you were sold to like a prize sow.  He’s a brute, and I’m your lover.”  The ire and anger radiated through his voice, stiffening the sinews of her body.  

“It’s because of this intimacy between he and I that you were set free from that hell.”

“So put me back and stop sleeping with him.”  He scowled, getting out from underneath her.  

Natasha, irritated, held herself up on her forearms.  “Really?  You want me to put you back there because of that?  What should I tell him, Loki?  I’m sorry, but my lover doesn’t wish me to sleep with you any longer.”  She pantomimed, moving her head from side to side with the words with the over dramatic flare that Loki usually had.  He scowled at it.  “It doesn’t make any sense, Loki.  I cannot.  Besides, I want you to get over your dislike for him.”

“It won't happen.”  He bit out.  “Not after what he’d done to me.”  

“Then I can’t run away with you.”  She said simply, her voice so soft he had to ask her to repeat it, her eyes fixed on him.  “I mean it.  I need to make this work with all of us.  Thor needs a child, I . . . if your magic worked then that should be reasonably soon.  And I like being queen.  If I can convince him to promote you to a lord or something--.”

“If I wanted titles I’d go to Jotunheim,” Loki said, not looking at her.  It clicked, and her mouth dropped open, her hand flying up to cover it.  Loki must’ve realized he’d made a mistake, because when he looked over at her it was done with a question in his gaze.  “You won’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What, that your slave dancer was the prince of Jotunheim, run away from his home?”  He snorted.  “Right.  But I mean it.  Don’t say anything.”  

She shook her head, sitting on the information.  She wouldn’t, not until it meant something.  Not until she could use it.  

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

True to her word she kept Loki’s secret, not sure how best to use it, not yet at least. Thor kept a closer eye on Loki than he ever had, and Loki bristled beneath the attention, nerves grated by what he saw as Natasha’s less than speedy upholding of her end of the bargain. Not that she could exactly act immediately, never the one to utilize such rash behavior.

“I’m growing tired of waiting,” he muttered to her one afternoon, the pair taking a turn around the gardens. A trio of guards trailed them, and she shot a quick, nervous look back at the three. Bloody hell, if they managed to hear what it was he was saying--.

“They won’t listen,” Loki promised. “I saw the middle guard stealing away with some of the silver and when I threatened to expose him he promised his silence, and that of those around once I exposed that he was pilfering small amounts of gold, too.”

Ah, well, wasn’t that nice to know? She looked back at the middle guard and Loki sniggered.

“Yes, please, look back at them. It’s not at all suspicious.”

“He’s taking from the treasury, Loki. Besides, what if you hadn’t caught him? You can’t just say things like that--you never know who’s listening or watching.” She told him, her eyes finding his, wishing that for once he’d just listen to what she said.

“So concerned about the kingdom, are we?”

“Shut up,” she muttered.

He grinned and nudged her gently. “Don’t be rude.”

“You know if you went to Thor with this sort of information--you could be a great asset Loki.”

He rolled his eyes. “The last thing I want to be is an asset,” he said, emphasizing the word with a scowl. “I am your lover. Treat me as such.”

“But what if--.”

“Natasha I mean it. I want to leave, and I want you to come with me. That was the bargain.”

“That was your bargain,” she reminded him. “I made no such promises.”

“In exchange for my help? I do believe you did.”

“I set you free.”

“I ensured you were with child because of it. When they locked me up for helping you, you vowed to get me out once more. This is what I asked for in repayment of all that I have done for you.”

Her body went still at his threat-laced words. She wasn’t just imagining it, she thought, the cold, all-knowing drag of his phrases that told her he knew exactly what it was he was doing. Her eyes narrowed as she folded her hands behind her back, casting a quick look his way.

“Are you threatening me, Loki?”

“I think your dear husband would be very interested to hear just how it is that you are now, suddenly, able to have child. And I’m sure he wouldn’t mind corroborating with Ivan, who would confirm--.”

She stopped where she stood, her mouth falling open. The guards were growing too close, and she waved them off with a flick of her wrist. “Get out.”

“My queen--.”

“I said leave!” She shouted. She’d never raised her voice to them before, and it had all three of them scrambling to get out of her sight. The area around the both of them went silent as a grave, but she didn’t trust that any more than she trusted the sorcerer in front of her. Slim fingers locking around his wrist, she tugged him away from the gardens and into the castle, shoving him in a corridor. He didn’t fight her, a bemused twist of his lips making her want to press a knife to his throat, see if he was so bloody chipper then.

“You forget who you are speaking to, Loki. I am a queen,” she said, drawing herself up to her full height, even if she still had to look up to him. “You think you can simply blackmail me when all it would take would be a word to my husband,” she hissed the word. “And I’ll have your damn head on a spike. I very much like you, Loki, but do not presume to threaten me ever again. You’ll not have a tongue if I hear those words come from your lips.”

How could he do that, say things like that, when she’d confided in him what Ivan had done to her? How he’d set her into a marriage she could not possibly have survived if it wasn’t for Loki?  But that was just the problem, wasn’t it?  She put too much trust in him, had thought he was looking out for her, and perhaps in his own way he was. But his wants and desires, as ever, came first.

She pulled away from him with a hiss as he reached out to take her chin in his hands, and rather than pressing his lips to hers as he’d hoped he instead leaned in to kiss her throat. She shoved him back.

“Don’t touch me.” She snarled. “Go back to your room, I don’t want to speak to you anymore today.”

“You sure that’s the wisest move, sending me away?  Who knows where I could go.” He murmured. Threatened, really. Her blood went cold, realizing that he had a point, and for half a moment her heart stopped in her chest. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I want you to realize that you are not safe here. As a queen you are the most vulnerable person, and if I can so simply break down everything you’ve built what is to say that Ivan would not do the same once he develops a taste for money again?  You will be safer if you leave with me.”

Safer, but happier? That was hard to say. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay, and I did want you to remain with me.”

“As your servant.”

“As my lover,” she growled the word, her hands balling into fists. “Now I’m not so sure. Loki, don’t make me regret having helped you.”

“And don’t threaten me with your husband. You’re not the only one with secrets to tell.”

He did leave her then before she could call him back. Her heart jolted, and she raced through the palace, intent on finding Thor. Just in case. He was in a council meeting, which meant she wasn’t supposed to enter, but really? Since when had she ever listened to any of the rules? Taking half a moment to compose herself, she strode in with a cheery smile, dipping into a low curtsey when the attention of the seven or so men around the king’s table turned to her, Thor among them. He looked concerned for half a second, and she loved him for it.

“My king,” she purred as she stepped closer. “Might I have a private, quick word?”

“Yes, certainly. Gentlemen,” he bobbed his head and stood, following her out to the antechamber where the servants were sent away. There she launched herself at him, kissing him hard on the lips and clawing at his leather tunic. He barely managed to pry her off of him.

“What’s wrong?” He looked down at her, confusion mixed with arousal. She could feel him already hardening against her body, and it made her long to have him inside her once more. That would keep his mind off of anything that anyone else would say.

“I cannot say what has gotten into me only that I feel--I burn for you, Thor. My king. Please.” She begged, taking his hand and bringing it to the apex of her thighs. She was warm there, heated from having kissed him and more than capable of turning herself on when the moment came. It drew a ragged groan from his lips.

“I’m in a meeting--.”

“You are the most powerful king in all the nine kingdoms. They will wait for you,” she promised. “Please, my king. Thor. Please take me.” She made her breath as airy as possible, lips descending onto his throat and teeth sinking into the muscle there that she knew made him weak in the knees.  Sure enough, he shuddered beneath her.

“Give me five minutes to send them to break.”

“Mm, you’d better send them away for the day. I want you all to myself.” She looked up at him from under her eyelashes, and this time he couldn’t stop the groan that left his lips.

“You are a minx at the best of times, how am I ever supposed to get anything done?”

“You’ll find a way, but another day.” She grinned, watching as he did his best to compose himself.

“Five minutes,” he reminded her, and she all but skipped away to their bedroom. Perfect. This was just what she needed to get her mind off of Loki’s threats and keep Thor’s attention. She readied herself in their bed, wearing nothing but the bedsheets around her, even having gone as far as preparing herself with the oil he kept on the bedside table. It might not have been much time, but if she could lessen the struggle her body had to accommodate him then it would all be worth it.

She’d not anticipated Thor dragging Loki into the bedroom, his face dark as a thundercloud before the storm, and Loki’s glance her way enough to make her heart sink.  Shit.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Her blood ran cold as she wrapped herself in a blanket, fixating on Loki, then to Thor in turn. “What is the meaning of this my king?” She asked, keeping her voice curious rather than letting on the petrification creeped down her spine with slow fingers.

“Your servant has been spreading rumors about you. Fandral overheard him speaking with a kitchen maid about your status when these are matters of state, not public knowledge.” Thor’s fingers visibly tightened over Loki’s arm. He didn’t react to it, drawing still, his eyes not meeting Natasha’s. Of course he did, and of course someone had overheard it. He wouldn’t have said anything if he wasn’t proving his fucking point. Nothing Loki did was without reason, so why would this be any different? Natasha straightened, forcing herself to breathe deeply and keep calm. Well then, they’d see how good he was at telling the truth.

“Loki, what did you say?” She asked, keeping her face calm, her fingers interlaced in her lap. He didn’t look up when she spoke to him, teeth sinking into his bottom lip until it chapped. Thor shook him, and Loki snarled with the movement, twisting up to glare at the king.

“Your queen asked you a question.” Thor said, voice deep enough to reverberate through the whole room. Natasha felt it shake her bones and she winced. He wasn’t strengthening her argument for the three of them to make it work together, nor her desire for it.

“Loki.” She started again. Her voice was quiet, concerned almost. Only then did he look to her, keeping care to ensure she couldn’t decipher what he was doing. Her fingers tug into the blanket further. Ass. “Tell me.”

He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, as though wondering whether or not to say anything. Thor shook him once more.

“I told them that I had surmised you were with child again.” He finally spat. “And to bring up more apples to your room as you asked. That your courses were late for this month and I had my suspicions.”

Natasha’s eyes widened. Oh very well done. Was he insane? He was getting her into far more trouble, and by turning it back onto her--well. Her cheeks flushed with Thor’s newfound attention, the excitement and pained hope that forced his eyebrows to rise and his lips to part half an inch or so, rounded but silent.

“Is this true?” Thor asked, forcing Natasha’s mind to work twice as quickly as before to come up with an answer to his question. Her gaze softened and she looked down at her folded hands, resting in her lap against the deep red bedspread that still served as her cover.

“I didn’t want to tell you, just in case,” she admitted with a soft laugh, the flush spreading over her body at her will. She could hear, more than see, his body relax with her admonition. “But--I’ve needed you so often and so strongly my lord. I don’t doubt it.”

His grin split her heart when she chanced a full glance up at him, and though he didn’t release Loki at her words he looked ready to tackle her to the bed right then and never let her up. “We will have Fandral confirm what it is you said to the maid.” He said, almost offhandedly, to Loki.

“As you say,” the Jotun gritted, trying to wriggle his arm out of Thor’s grasp, discomfort evident in the lines of pain as he pursed his lips. The pucker in Thor’s brow deepened, however, the harder that Loki tried to get away from him, and Nat’s mouth ran dry as he looked from one to the other, his previous elation replaced with a sword-sharp edge.

“Are you still ready for me, my love?” Thor asked, his attention wholly on his wife, as though Loki was no more than a minor irritation.

No. Absolutely not. But she needed this child, thanks to Loki, and without this she might not succeed at pulling his stupid scheme off. So she smiled, biting her bottom lip and staring up at him from underneath her eyelashes. The oil had since cooled between her thighs, but everytime she shifted she could feel it, so at least he would never be able to tell that she wasn’t anticipating it as she was before. “If you would indulge me, husband, I would be grateful.”

Now he looked more like Loki, his grin mischievous at best.

“Guards,” he called, and Natasha’s mind went to the worst of places as her fingers tightened on her blanket. Was he able to tell that she was lying? How? Was he going to make an example of her and Loki? The two guards from outside stepped into the room, their eyes glued strictly to the kin. He handed Loki over to them, the two taking precautions to keep from touching his skin directly.

“Hold him.” Thor ordered, voice soft. Nat’s heart leapt. Loki looked as though he were ready to eat the both of them alive and still have room for Thor were he able to overpower the three. His attempts to wrench himself free garnered only tighter grips and a kick to the back of the legs from Thor so that Loki fell to his knees. “Keep him there, with his head up.” Thor demanded of the nearest guard, who took a handful of Loki’s hair and tugged it upwards. Loki bared his teeth, red eyes snapping on Thor.

“Husband,” Natasha sounded from her place on the bed, but Thor held up a hand to silence her, much to her displeasure. She’d seen him with this same fervor before when she’d sat with him for a day of listening to his subjects. He’d set two men to fight to the death for the land they had equal rights to. His face had been set with a sort of dark interest, almost a vindictive pull on his brow. That reflected now as he stared down at the Jotun beneath him, still struggling to wrest his freedom from his captors.

“You think you’re clever and sly. You’re quick as a shadow, Loki, I’ll give you that.” Thor said simply as he began to undress, fingers slow in undoing the many clasps and buckles of his outer shirt. Natasha felt her stomach sink, unable to watch Loki’s expression for fear that it would give away too much, and half terrified at what it was Thor was even talking about.

“And I’ve been thinking about what exactly I ought to do about the way I have caught you looking at my queen, my wife, when you think I’m not paying attention. You grow too familiar with her, Loki.”

“Thor--.”

“Natasha, don’t.” Thor cut her off, not turning to look at her. No, all of his attention was centered wholly around Loki, whose teeth were still bared, a low, guttural growl resounding in his throat. “He needs to be reminded of what is not, and will never be, his. Needs it burnt into his mind so that he never forgets it.” His tunic slid off his shoulders with ease, followed by the deep red undershirt, before he got to work on his trousers. Natasha flushed, her gaze dropping as a proper wife’s ought to onto her lap, blinking furiously so she didn’t have to focus on what was happening. They’d tried--well, she’d tried--so hard to ensure that Thor never found out. And at least it didn't seem like a whipping was in order for either of them. Truthfully, this was better off than she was expecting, if he meant to give Loki a show. But still, her heart ached for her lover, the muscles in his neck undoubtedly tense from where the guard forced him to look up.

The bed shifted as Thor’s weight pressed upon it, and large, calloused hands slid her hands from the sheet that covered her. He brushed her thick red hair away from her neck, planting sweet kisses in his stead. “Don’t take pity on the bastard. He had this coming.” He murmured in her ear. “I don’t want to hear or see you hold back. It’s just a lesson for him, that’s all. Some are taught with pain, others are taught with less conventional methods.”

She didn’t dare to speak, just nodding and letting the sheet slip over her, silky soft, as he tugged at it. He was unfailingly kind to her and she was so grateful for it, but she made the mistake of looking over as Thor suckled her breast and caught the beginnings of tears in the corners of Loki’s eyes, caught the way his breath was stuck in his throat, and felt herself overcome by the startings of similar pain.

Thor didn’t notice, she made sure he wouldn’t, moaning and whimpering as she would have any other time, her hips bucking up against his hands when he’d pressed three fingers inside of her, a deep groan pulled from her throat when he finally seated himself inside of her to the hilt not long after. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she bucked her hips up against his, but inside she felt her stomach turning and a certain deadness begin to creep out that threatened to overcome her entire body. So she closed her eyes, tipped her head back and pretended Loki wasn’t there, wasn’t watching them do this. She loved her husband, she couldn’t fight that. But it wasn’t her fault for loving Loki as well. And this would be the very last grievance he would suffer through, she knew.

Hel, she’d be lucky if he lasted the evening in the palace.

Even without looking she could feel his gaze on her body, could feel the heat of it when Thor pulled away so he could turn her onto her hands and knees and drive into her, pleasure spiking through her abdomen and every inch of her being after that. She knew it, and hated him for watching, hated Thor for making him. Hated herself for getting involved to begin with.

But she needed this child. Thor needed it, and so she did if she intended to keep her head. With her face smashed into the pillows beneath her she sobbed, wishing it didn’t feel so good, and that she didn’t feel so guilty, as Thor roared with his own enjoyment.

Loki wasn’t allowed to leave until he watched Thor expend himself three times within Natasha, Nat’s body weak from the first, but still soldiering on either way. Only after he’d pressed his hips flush up against hers for the third time, Natasha’s back to him as they’d fucked on their side, did Thor give the go ahead for Loki to be brought back to his rooms. Natasha had held his gaze the whole entire time, hoping he could see just how sorry she was for the position he’d been put into, but he’d gone blank after the first ten or so minutes had passed, and she could only imagine what it was that he felt.

She didn’t think she’d be able to scrub away how dirty she felt from it, to be true with herself.

 

It took a week for Loki to come out of his rooms once more. Natasha didn’t blame him one bit, or make him come out any sooner than he was ready for, glad for the absence. It gave her time to think, time to plan out her next move and how it was that she could appease him to keep her secrets. Or should she just set him free? She’d held onto him for so long, kept his company and relied on it for her own gains. Was that fair? Probably not, and after what Thor had done she wouldn’t have blamed him in the slightest if he wanted to leave. She’d be hurt, certainly, but she wasn’t about to make him stay after what he’d endured. Still her chest ached to think about losing him. He’d been at court the same amount of time that she had, and she’d grown fond of their time spent together when she could breathe and act as she pleased.

But here held security. Here held her husband, and her new life. The potential for new life, as well. She had a feeling Thor was waiting for the same thing, to see her swell with child. The pressure, the realities, never felt more pressing, as though they were sitting on her chest, growing heavier and heavier with each passing day.

 

When Loki did come back he had a muted look about him.Gone were the flourishes and the charisma she’d associated with his presence, hidden under a blank mask he kept whether they were in public or private. He was unable to even bring his gaze up to hers no matter how she asked him, her hand on his in the secrecy of her rooms. He’d proven his point, and Thor’s actions had solidified that there would be no compromise, no brokering of positions. Unless.

Her back straightened with the realization, blinking quickly as her mind processed. From where he stood beside her Loki hardly seemed to notice, though she could hear the sharp intake of breath that betrayed him.

“Loki, what are the names of your parents?” She looked up at him. “I’ve never asked, I’m sorry.”

He turned his head and she could see his jaw tightening with their mention. “It’s not important.”

“Tell me, please. You know about my history but I feel I hardly know any of yours.”

The sneer that twisted his face cut her to the bone, and she knew it was too little too late for her to be expressing interest, knew how it must look to him, as though she was making up for something that she could never hope to. Jealousy didn’t sit well on his shoulders, though she imagined it was a familiar sensation to him just as it was to her. Still, she could pull this off, could make this work. She knew she could

“Laufey and Farbauti.” He finally spat. “It will do you no good. I am certain my mother is dead--she was so sick when I left, and my father will have lost his wit without her.”

That might be, but if she knew anything of the stories of Jotunheim, an offense to one was an offense to all. She rose, slipping a marker into the book she’d been reading and placing it on her bed. “Thank you. You’re free to leave.” She tugged on her jacket, Thor out in the woods overseeing something or over with the farmers, despite the rising chill that threatened the coming of winter.

Now Loki looked at her. She wasn’t aiming for subtle and so it was no surprise that he gathered she was working on something involving him. “What is it?” He asked.

“Nothing, my dear.” She looked over, pleased to find he was finally looking her in the eyes. “Just trust me.”

He snorted. “Every time you say that I fear my life shortens by a half decade.”

She cupped the side of his face, and he didn’t flinch away as she’d anticipated. It brought a smile to her lips. Good. So it wasn’t entirely hopeless. “Please. Just trust me.”

She didn’t offer him anything else before she’d whirled away. He didn’t follow.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I just started watching Reign and this chapter is pathetically, hopelessly inspired by that. I couldn't help myself, the whump was just too good, and I thrive on pain.   
> In case you hadn't noticed.  
> Hope you liked it anyway! Thanks for reading and I apologize for the lack of updates! School has been hella kicking my ass. Big time.


	12. Chapter 12

Thor was just returning when Natasha stepped outside to meet him, a smile on her face that ran deep into her bones. She really had it this time, she was sure of it. If not . . . well, then she’d arrange for Loki’s safe transport wherever he wanted herself. Sif was standing beside Thor, a curiosity that Nat would leave for another day. It wouldn’t do well to put him in a foul temper, not when the fresh air was excellent at doing the exact opposite. His face split into a smile of his own when he stepped closer to her, bending to plant a quick kiss to her lips.

“My darling, you’re looking radiant today. How are you?”

“I am excellent,” she assured him and trying not to smirk at his comment. She had actually done her best to look extra special on her way down, pinching her cheeks to color them, biting her lips to make them fuller and deeper red. While she hadn’t stayed in bed the past week as she’d wanted to, she hadn’t put as much time into her appearance when Loki was gone. It had felt as though a piece of her had been stomped on, and so hadn’t inspired much care or extra thought to go into her appearance. Now she needed every advantage she could get. “Could you spare a few moments to walk with me?” she asked. Her smile was sweet, not letting on that she had anything planned. Loki might’ve caught the nervous tremor in her fingertips but Thor remained blessedly oblivious. He said his farewell to Sif, whose eyes followed Natasha rather than her king. Though her face was blank Nat was sure she had an inkling as to what the woman was thinking.

She’d try and make this work in Sif’s favor, but there just wasn’t enough time in the day to please everyone.

“I trust everything is well with the farmer?” Natasha asked. Her arm had found his and intertwined it with her own, fingers lacing together. It’d been hard to get over what had happened between he and Loki, hard not to let on how hurt she’d been by his actions and perhaps he knew that. She hadn’t been able to feel his skin against hers without having to hide her tremors, but with Loki’s absence he’d been kinder, more thoughtful. She’d gotten flowers a few times that week, and though they were delivered without reason she had an inkling as to why.

“Quite well--now, at least. He was having a difficult time with a neighbor. I straightened it out.” Thor said as his shoulders straightened, chin hefting a little higher in the air. Nat did her best not to laugh.

“This had to be discussed there? He couldn’t go to you?” She teased him.

“I have to get out of the castle as often as I can. It’s stifling otherwise. Besides, the fresh air helped to clear my head, as the Lady Sif had suggested it would.”

Nat bet she had. A nice romp in the forest would’ve also been on Sif’s list of what would help him. Natasha was being unkind, though, and bit on the inside of her cheek to pull herself back. “What is it that troubles you, husband?” She asked. She had to play this just right, and if he had too much on his mind it might not work. She needed her plan to work.

“King Laufey seeks a visit. To ensure we are not hiding his son for a certain nefarious purpose that he’s certain we have.” Thor rolled his eyes, the thought ludicrous. “I assured him we did not. Besides, one Jotun is bad enough. The last thing we need is teams of them.”

Natasha felt her heart skip. “Still, wouldn’t it be better to invite him anyway, with a small contingent of his men, to set his paranoia to rest?” She asked, biting her bottom lip with a curious look up at Thor. This was too perfect, too coincidental. So much so that . . .

She’d deal with that when it came to it.

“I know if it was my son,” she squeezed his hand, and watched as his gaze flickered to her stomach. “And he went missing I’d rip the damn kingdoms apart until I found him.”

“You have a kind heart, my darling,” Thor said, bending down to place a kiss to her lips.

“Not when my child’s safety is in question.” Her eyes grew steely as she looked up at him when he pulled away. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t, either.”

He grew silent, and she watched as his expression hardened, his body growing stiff. He didn’t meet her eyes. She had it, she knew, without having to hear him agree. Family meant so much to him. He paid so much attention to his mother, spoke reverently about his father, and had spoken to her often about wanting an enormous brood to turn his hair grey and keep him eternally on his toes. She knew where to hit him. She’d be a fool not to.

Though it was easy for him to say that he wanted so many children when he wasn’t going to be the one pushing them out and into the world--. Nevertheless, that wasn’t her concern at the moment. She reached to take his hand and bring his knuckles to her lips, kissing them and never breaking eye contact the whole while. She felt, rather than saw, the shiver travel up his spine at the movement, and smiled against his skin. “Show the world how generous you can be, my king, and the action shall not go forgotten. You’ll be revered for taking such an action, for being the first to extend a hand in peace and in good will.”

He was quiet, blue eyes searching hers all the while she held his hand. She hardly dared to breath, wondering just whether or not he’d take the bait. Had she laid it on too thick? Had she not done enough? It was hard to tell when he was so stoic, for once. Or perhaps she was too close to the situation to be able to tell when she overplayed her hand. She wiped her free palm on her dress as subtly as she could manage, hoping he wouldn’t catch on to how nervous she was. He couldn’t think that she was too invested or else he might start to be cautious. Too cautious and he could guess that there was a plan deeper than just what it seemed. He’d surprised her before with what he’d done to Loki, catching on at least somewhat to their connection. She couldn’t play this as though it would be something that benefitted her lover, only something in her king’s best interest.

“You are smarter than all of my councillors put together.” He finally admitted, voice soft as he leaned in to cup the side of her face and kiss her. “I ought to be rid of them and put you in their place.”

“We’d never get anything done between the both of us,” she reminded him with a quirked eyebrow.

He grinned. “Oh I’m not sure about that. We could be quite productive.”

“You dog.” She hit his shoulder with a scandalized smile on her face, and he caught it, grinning himself and kissing her wrist, just above where he held her.

“Ah-ah, careful with that,” he admonished, the brush of his beard against her skin making her skin burn in the best sort of way. “You’re more powerful than you might think, my love.”

So she was learning, and so she anticipated to keep using as long as she was able.

 

Laufey was set to arrive in two weeks time, and Natasha had the place in an uproar, insisting that everything be perfect for when he got there. She wasn’t telling anyone just who their guest would be, only that they were expecting them from a different kingdom and that they had all be on their best behavior the whole while. She wouldn’t accept anything less than the excellence she knew the kingdom was able to provide, and she’d be damned if she let Laufey see anything lackluster. The rooms where he and his men would be staying were decked out in gold and blue, the traditional colors of Jotunheim, and she’d had larger beds laid out to accommodate them.

Keeping the visit from Loki, however, was more taxing than it ought to have been. He worked to wheedle the information out of her at every opportunity he could, trying to catch her off guard more often than not in hopes that she might just slip up and confess to him what was going on. Each time she just smiled and shook his questions off, pressing a kiss to his lips when they were alone in order to keep him quiet. He stiffened each time she did, and she wondered just how deep Thor’s lesson really had gone. She hadn’t thought things would be much different between them, even if her husband was a little on the more cautious side this time around. Loki hardly dared to look at her in Thor’s presence, and the cowed behavior went against everything she’d known him to stand for. It damn near broke her heart.

Still, if she managed to play her cards right they might be able to pull this off. And that meant that Loki couldn’t know, not just yet. She really needed this to work.

 

Laufey’s men arrived three days before the King himself and it only made keeping Loki out of the loop that much more difficult. She tried to keep him occupied with the general preparations, but when he started to ask the other servants questions things became complicated. As if it wasn’t difficult already organizing everything herself while Thor kept wanting her attention and affection whenever he could get it. She started to order Loki to remain in her rooms while she worked to finish the castle’s preparations, which went about as well as could be expected. He never did well with confined areas, and it was almost always a disaster as soon as she got back to check on him. Raising a rambunctious puppy would’ve been easier.

It was with Laufey’s men in tow, that Loki first laid eyes on the guests that Nat had been so hell bent to keep from him. They’d been following Natasha down the corridor past her own room, and really she was amazed that the whole place didn’t shake with the force of their footsteps, when she heard the door opening and the click of the lock sliding from place. She glanced back to see Loki’s head peeking out. Her stomach knotted.

“Sir William Greyson, would you please escort our guests to their rooms? And wherever else it is they must go, within reason. I need to see to something.” She said with a smile at her guests as well as the guard who’d been protecting her. The man nodded, though his smile was far more forced than Natasha’s, but he led the Jotuns on anyway. She watched them disappear around one of the corners, a chill going down her spine, before she looked back to where Loki had been. He’d disappeared back into her room, shutting the door silently without anyone having noticed. She watched him throwing a couple things into a small trunk once she stepped inside, his back to her. Even from so far away she could see him trembling.

“What are you doing?” Natasha asked, letting the door close behind her before she stepped closer on quiet feet. When she pressed her hand to his shoulder he jumped.

“Leaving,” he spat, his red eyes glowering when he turned to look at her. He slammed the lid to the trunk shut. “And you’re coming with me.”

“No, you can’t leave.” She took his wrist. He snatched it away only to take hers instead, wrapping his long fingers around it. Again that same shudder ran down her body. The bones of her wrist rubbed hard together under his grip and she tried to pull away. He didn’t let her. “Loki, please. You can’t leave.”

“Then tell me what it is my father’s guards are doing here,” he hissed, tugging her closer. She could see the jump of the vein in his temple, could feel the fear underneath his skin, and hated to think that it was her fault. But he needed to trust her as she’d done for him. Hell, she’d been physically attacked and she’d still given him another chance.

“I have a plan.”

“Am I privy to it?”

“If you stop trying to snap my wrist, certainly.”

He chewed on his cheeks but the grip on her wrist loosened considerably. She tugged herself free to rub the aching skin. Damn, he’d always had a strong grip, she just didn’t know how strong. His arms folded over his chest, eyes never leaving hers as she moved to grab some wine from the side table. How was she supposed to explain this one? She knew him finding out wasn’t going to be a good idea, but honestly this reaction was borderline ridiculous.

“I need Laufey to see you.” she said finally. “I need him to be so beyond offended that he demands restitution. I need Thor to be pushed to bargain, and I need you to want to marry me.”

Oh. Well that wasn’t supposed to have slipped out but there it was. His expression shifted before he could think to hide his surprise for her, and her cheeks colored in embarrassment. “Your father’s been looking for you, Loki. I convinced Thor to allow Laufey to come and stay, to see that we didn’t have you as far as Thor knows, but once Laufey sees you he’ll be in an uproar. He’ll demand that Thor make this right and if you say that you want me--if you do want me--.”

“Your husband isn’t going to give you up.”

“I don’t expect him to. But, between the three of us I’m sure some sort of arrangement could be brokered. If you want it. If not, my husband faces a war if he does not let me go, or else divorce if he does. But an alliance--through the marriage of you both. It’ll solidify both of the kingdoms. It’s never been done, Loki.” She set down the wine on the table and stepped closer to him, her eyes searching him, hoping he’d agree to it. That he’d still want her. “And if you don’t want me . . . well, you’ve escaped from them once before, I’ll cover your tracks to help you get out this time. But the pressures will be off of my kingdom because of it, and you’ll be free.”

“I told you I’d only leave with you at my side,” he said, though the words didn’t come out the growl she’d anticipated them to.

“Loki can’t you see that this--this could work. What my husband has done to you is awful,” she agreed, speaking quickly before his senses came back to him. Her hands cupped both sides of his face and held him tight, watching as his gaze locked onto hers. “And I’m so sorry. But I can’t lose you both. I don’t want to lose you both. Please. It’s hard enough that I never anticipated falling in love, let alone with two men.”

There was silence as he thought over her words, retreating into himself in order to think. He’d been doing it quite often that she knew when to keep her peace, when to let him have his moment alone.

“It’s never going to work.”

“We have to try. Please, Loki. That’s all I can ask is that you help me try.”

She thought he was going to laugh at her naivety, that he was going to remove her hands from his face and step away and call her an idiot for even thinking something like what she proposed could work. She expected him to finish packing, to be gone before his father arrived. She closed her eyes, breath catching in her throat when he didn’t answer. Her heart dropped.

Her hands shifted, and cool lips pressed against hers. Her hands dropped to grasp him by the shoulders and keep him close as he wrapped his arms around her middle, keeping her flush against him. Her heart thudded hard in her chest, so glad, so relieved, that he’d agreed.

“How could I turn down the chance to see that oaf of a king so befuddled and petrified of the man he’d once treated like the scum of the nine kingdoms?” He asked, and though there was a bite of truth to his words she was glad to hear them nonetheless. They’d work on the attitude once the deal was finished. Besides, though neither of them would ever own up to it they were far more alike than they realized. Things would work out, one way or another, even if she had to strong-arm the pair of them the whole way.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

They had to keep him isolated until the appropriate time, keep the others from seeing him so that they had the element of surprise on their side. The last thing that Natasha wanted was for Thor to figure out Loki’s true identity and send him away, or else seek to make immediate reparations. In the couple days that they had until Laufey’s arrival they worked to figure out just what would be the best way in which they could present his eldest to him. Loki seemed to think that dancing might work best, and as much as Natasha hated the idea of Thor being humiliated, of being seen as the incompetent ruler, the liar, she had to agree that it was likely the best. Laufey would be outraged by his son’s position in the Asgardian court, and all she could hope would be that there wouldn’t be a war that broke out because of the discovery.

Thor had agreed when she’d come to him and proposed the idea, that a dance from her servant might at least entertain their guests, and she was grateful for how simply he’d taken the trick, even if the guilt that came with it ate at her gut. It would all turn out in the end, she was sure of it. They were so close, were on the cusp of evening out the standings between both the men she loved, and if they could just make it a little while longer then Natasha would be able to finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Loki did his best to hide his trembling when the horns erupted to announce Laufey was nearing, and Natasha had to leave, on their last day of planning. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, red eyes finding and holding hers as his hand tightened on the one he held. Anxiety rolled off of him and crashed against her, and not even her quick kiss to his lips could stop it.

“It’s going to work, Loki.”

“I don’t want to go back to Jotunheim with him.”

“No one is taking you from me,” Natasha swore, her words vehement and her eyes sharp as she caught the side of his face with her free hand. “No one.”

He surged closer to kiss her, lips cold but the actual kiss was so warm it very nearly melted her bones with its intensity. She groaned softly against him, shivered as the fire traveled to her gut and her groin, before she forced herself to pull away.

“Once we pull this off, love. I promise,” she whispered, voice hoarse, and with some difficulty managed to extricate herself from his grip. She’d never seen him looking more surprised or anxious, Loki usually so adept at keeping his emotions hidden when it really counted, but he looked more like an abandoned child than anything and it made her chest ache. Still. She shoved the emotion down, blinking quickly until she forced herself to smile and bid him goodbye before turning and heading out. There would be an enormous celebration that evening to welcome the visiting dignitary, and so long as Loki could keep a level head as well, there was no reason everything wouldn’t go according to plan. As she straightened her back she tried not to think about whether or not he’d be able to go through it, to push himself into action--or whether, once it was all said and done, he’d change the terms they’d come to agree on--but there wasn’t time to worry about it. All she could do, right then, was hope. Hope, and put one foot in front of the other as she headed on to stand with her husband and welcome her lover’s father.

 

Meeting Laufey himself went off without a hitch. Thor minded his manners, head bowing in respect to the king of Jotunheim, and Laufey was equally as civil to him as he was to Natasha, who curtseyed once they’d been introduced. He took her hand in his own enormous one and pressed his lips to the back of it, more than comfortable with their customs it seemed. She could appreciate that. He was shown to his rooms, allowed to change into something fresh and clean given that the trip was so long, then invited down to the celebration that evening.

That made Natasha’s heart skip a little faster. Thor looked over at her as they walked into the decked out great hall. “Your cheeks are red. Are you feeling well?” he asked, a look of concern ghosting over his features as the other Jotuns took to filing into the room.

“I’m fine my love,” she assured him, forcing her lips upwards into a smile before leaning over to kiss him. “Glad that everything is going well so far. I’m just anxious.”

Thor smiled, nudging her with his hip. “You surround yourself with a Jotun day in and day out and here you are petrified by one single dignitary, honor bound to a code of conduct. We are better protected here my darling than anywhere else. He will not hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about him hurting me.” Her words came out a touch too venomous, confusing Thor for half a moment as he stared at her. She squeezed his hand. “Anxious about disappointing him, perhaps. This is my first dignitary that I’ve met with since I became queen. I want everything to be perfect.”

Thor’s lips parted in a soft ‘ah’ of understanding as he led her to the head table where they’d be sitting. The other tables had been spread to the very edges of the hall so that Loki might have room to dance. With luck he wouldn’t have to for very long, and this would all work its way through without Laufey taking Thor’s head for recompense.

No, she couldn’t think like that. Her hands had begun to tremble, and she balled them up in her skirts to keep it from being obvious. Laufey joined them not long after, his red eyes surveying the hall with some level of distaste, his second trailing just behind him. Natasha couldn’t understand why but didn’t question it, simply smiled and dipped her head in greeting as he took his seat on the other side of Thor.

“I trust your rooms are to your liking, your majesty,” Natasha said, looking around her husband in order to watch Laufey’s face. He remained impassive for the most part as he nodded.

“Yes, they’ll do. Now, I heard that there was to be entertainment? I do hope it is quick; traveling can build such an appetite, I’m certain you understand.” The growl of his voice and his demands made her stomach knot, but she looked to Thor, who took it all into stride.

“It’s meant to be an honor to you, our way of welcoming you to our kingdom, but I’m certain it will be brief enough.”

“You’ve not seen it yourself?” Laufey looked incredulous, one eyebrow rising the same way that Loki’s did when he didn’t necessarily believe what he was being told. Nat bit her tongue

“No, affairs of state tend to keep me busy.”

Was that just Natasha, or had Laufey’s eyes traveled down to look at her belly? “Yes, I’m sure they do.” Laufey smirked and Natasha did what she could to not say something snide back. She needed him to think nothing was wrong, that everything was as it should be. It was, after all. They didn’t know any different.

As if on cue, the lights began to dim around them and Natasha felt her palms begin to sweat. She wiped them slowly on her dress, forcing herself to breathe slowly through her nose. This was going to work. This was going to work.

Because if it didn’t her head was on a spike, her husband’s with it. Possibly Loki’s, depending on how Laufey felt, and her people--everyone in Asgard, would be subject to Jotunheim’s wrath.

The music began from off to the side of the grand room, the slow, steady thrum of it a counterbeat to Natasha’s quick heart. Where Loki would be coming in from would be far enough away that Laufey wouldn’t be able to tell just who he was but--and Natasha hadn’t thought this one through--just how many Jotun runts were there with Loki’s size and build? How could Laufey not know?

Too late now. The other dancers, Aesir women that Natasha had insisted on so that Loki wasn’t the sole center of attention for everyone else, and so Thor wouldn’t get suspicious, had already come out. Their hips gyrated and the golden and platinum chains that had been wrapped artistically around their bodies and skirts clinked gently. The sound was so lighthearted it very nearly hurt to listen to.

“This is entertainment?” She heard Laufey growl, sneaking a glance in his direction to see that the corners of his mouth had curled upwards. His second gave a low, throaty laugh that had Natasha’s nails digging into the armrests of her chair. Thor placed his hand atop hers and squeezed it gently. Still, Laufey ought to have been more careful about what he wished to see.

Loki’s cue came, a cloud of blue and white powder large enough to fully hide him from view as he made his way onto the informal stage. When it cleared all the lights in the room burned for him, the other female dancers unable to hold the same attention. Nat ought to have known this would happen. His blue skin practically glowed, dripping in gold, and his feet were nimble as he whirled in time, the music’s tempo picking up. Had she not been so damn concentrated on feeling out for Laufey’s reaction, too nervous to fully turn her face and look, she’d have noticed just how her mouth watered to see Loki’s muscles contort and bend in time. She’d seen him practice the dance dozens upon dozens of times, and still it was nothing short of captivating.

As his dance brought him closer she wondered if he could feel how anxious she was. His gaze lit on hers, and Laufey sat forward, his chair groaning under the shift of his weight. Natasha jumped about half a foot in the air, and the music stuttered to a stop, as the king of Jotunheim stood with a bellow of disgust that caught everyone’s attention. In a matter of seconds his blade was drawn and pressed to Thor’s throat. Her husband went stock still, hardly daring to breathe given the minimal movement of Thor’s chest, and Natasha stood to face the seething king.

“What trickery is this?” Laufey demanded, voice a deep snarl. Thor stayed silent, unaware as to what was happening, just what had been done to infuriate the giant, and Laufey seemed to take his silence as defiance. Natasha took a step forward without any real idea of what to do, waiting on Loki to say something but not wanting to make it seem as though she knew anything--.

“Please, King Laufey,” she started, but he wasn’t listening to her. His second had risen to his feet as well, making a beeline around his king towards--who? Her, or Loki?

“This is my son you parade in front of me and my people, like some common harlot!” Laufey stepped closer to Thor, his voice large enough to fill the hall. Natasha could see the blade pressing harder to Thor’s throat, just enough to draw a thin line of blood. “I’ll have your head--.”

“Father, don’t.” Loki’s voice was just loud enough, the golden chains jingling as he stepped out past Natasha. Dwarfed by his father, he put his hand on Laufey’s, face turned up to look into those of the man who’d raised him. Natasha wished she could relax, but it was far from over, even as Laufey’s grip on the blade eased up just the slightest. “He did not know--this is not his doing.”

“He dishonored you and you defend him?” Laufey’s words turned to a hiss of disgust, eyes narrowing as he stared down at his son. Neither moved. “I thought you lost to us, only to find you here, turned to a dancing toy for their amusements? It will not stand.”

Loki’s grip on his father’s hand tightened, but Natasha wasn’t sure it was working, wasn’t sure he’d listen. She half expected him to run Loki through with the blade before turning on Thor, who still had yet to move, though his eyes darted between Loki and Laufey.

“Let us talk in private,” Natasha offered, stepping closer. “The four of us. Too many eager ears and eyes in this hall. We wouldn’t want to do anything rash, would we?”

This snapped Laufey out of his daze, and the blade that was near as wide as Thor’s arm slid back into its sheath as Laufey drew himself up to his full height. His second hissed something, leaning in to mutter it into Laufey’s ear, but the king silenced him with a look.

“Lead the way.” His eyes were focused wholly on Natasha, and she found she didn’t care much for it at all. Still, stiffening her resolve, she waited for Thor to rise to his feet before walking away with the three men behind her. As they stepped from the room she caught sight of the mortified, stupefied faces of the crowd. Well, she had promised a decent show, hadn’t she?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only took me five freaking years to get this out, I swear. Hope the update was worth it! Thanks so much for reading <3 The fic is still on hiatus, I just forced myself to finish this one 'cause it's been looking at me guiltily forever.


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